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Updated: May 13, 2025
"That was how she met her second husband, Gervis. She nursed him." "It makes no difference how she met him; she's not in your class a woman who has been divorced three times." "But she hasn't. Whatever made you think that?" Terry shot upright on her chair, for all the world like a startled rabbit. "You told me she'd had three husbands." He was once more puzzled and uncertain of his ground.
"As a matter of fact," he said, "the lady you're in search of does live here. But she's not Mrs. Gervis any longer. She's married again. She's Mrs. Lockwood now." A glint of enmity came into the stranger's eyes. "Then you're Mr. Lockwood, perhaps?" Tabs answered him with a note of irritation. "I'm not Mr. Lockwood. She's a widow. Lockwood also was killed.
He moved towards the door, halted and came slowly back. He looked very spent, and slim, and wasted in the gathering shadows. As Tabs gazed down at him, he noticed that his face was prodigiously solemn. "I don't mind now." He swallowed like a small boy getting rid of his emotion. "I don't mind Gervis or Lockwood any longer; it's as though they'd never happened.
Francis Peabody, Samuel Peabody, Israel Perley, Oliver Perley, Daniel Palmer, Humphrey Pickard, Hugh Quinton, Nicholas Rideout, Jonathan Smith, John Shaw, Gervis Say, Isaac Stickney, Samuel Tapley, Alexander Tapley, Giles Tidmarsh, John Wasson, Jonathan Whipple and Samuel Whitney.
This expedient Sir Thomas embraced, and absolutely refused to go abroad; upon which, on the twenty-first of April 1613, he was sent prisoner to the Tower, and put under the care of Sir Gervis Yelvis, then lord lieutenant.
The nearest available chair to Maisie was at least four yards away; to have selected it would have been to have isolated himself. He would have had to have hailed her ridiculously across the room's breadth. It was plainly intended that he should challenge fate and share the couch, just as Pollock, Gervis, Lockwood, Adair and so many others had done before him.
"If it's the Gervis who used to live here," he indicated the house with a jerk of his head, "I'm afraid you won't find him. He's been dead these three years killed at the Front." A quiet chuckle greeted this piece of information, followed by a hearty, "Thank the Lord." Tabs had finished what he was doing.
He counted the photographs; there were no less than five of them, recording the same face from varying angles. "Which of them, is he," he asked himself, "Pollock, Gervis, or Lockwood? But he mayn't be any of them. Perhaps he's a possible fourth the latest. If so, here's hoping, for he shuts out Adair." He turned towards the couch, intending to sit down.
I married Gervis and Lockwood after being with her. I shall break out to-day if you don't come at once and stop me. Unless unless you don't want to stop me and would prefer the experiment of being vulgar together." "The prospect sounds alluring." He was trying to let her down lightly. "But I'm afraid I have too many engagements on hand." "Oh!" It was the oh of disappointment.
"Why, as one with a sheet of paper on his bosom might come off from the stroke of a lance; or rather, indeed, he came not off at all, for, when I left him, he was lying in the Hermit's Lodge daily expecting death, for which Father Gervis said he was in heavenly preparation." "Well, any more measuring of weapons?" said the glover.
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