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Five pounds of cinnamon look rather suspicious. Miss Janet's not going to step off is she." "I'm not in that young person's confidence. I should say not, however. But what do you mean by your five pounds of cinnamon?" "Why, Mrs. Gildersleeve's little girl was in here this morning, and said Mrs. Markham sent for five pounds of cinnamon and two of raisins." "Mrs. Gildersleeve's girl? I know Mrs.
And that feature at least in her idiosyncrasy could hardly be put down to Gilbert Gildersleeve's account; for hectoring and strong-minded as the successful Q.C. was known to be, nobody could for a moment accuse him in any definite way of deliberate unkindness to his wife or daughter. On the contrary, he was tender and indulgent to them to the last degree, as he understood those virtues.
In the iron-gray dawn, while the troops were falling dimly and spectrally into line, and he was mounting his horse to be ready for orders, he remembered Gildersleeve's drunken tale concerning the commandant, and laughed aloud. "Is that the boy's brother?" he said to himself; and in the next instant he had forgotten the whole subject; it was time to form and present the regiment.
Cyril felt all was up. Elma glanced at him trembling. This was horrible, inconceivable, inexplicable, fatal. The very stars in their courses seem to fight against Guy. Blind chance checkmated them. No hope was left now, save in Gilbert Gildersleeve's own sense of justice. But Sir Gilbert Gildersleeve sat there, transfixed with horror. No answering gleam now shot through his dull, glazed eye.
In your natural anxiety to screen my brother, you've fixed the guilt, without proof, upon another innocent man. I'm sure Mr. Gildersleeve's as incapable as Guy of any such action." "And I'm sure of it, too," Elma answered, with the instinctive certainty of feminine conviction. "But still I know, for all that, he did it. Perhaps it was all done in a moment of haste. But at least he did it.
It was a great relief to him, alone and in doubt, and much wondering about Guy, to hear a friendly word from whatever quarter. And Cyril knew he was safe in Gilbert Gildersleeve's hands: the greatest criminal lawyer of the day in England might surely be trusted to set right such a mere little error of mistaken identity.
"Oh, your turn will come some day," mumbled Wallis, remembering Gildersleeve's jealousy of the brigade commander a jealousy which only gave tongue when aroused by "commissary." "If you do as well as usual to-morrow you can have your own brigade." "I suppose you think we are all going to do well to-morrow," scoffed old Grumps, whose utterance by this time stumbled.
"Oh, your turn will come some day," mumbled Wallis, remembering Gildersleeve's jealousy of the brigade commander a jealousy which only gave tongue when aroused by "commissary." "If you do as well as usual to-morrow you can have your own brigade." "I suppose you think we are all going to do well to-morrow," scoffed Old Grumps, whose utterance by this time stumbled.
Gilbert Gildersleeve's waistcoat was above suspicion. And when Guy Waring returned to his room at the Duke of Devonshire Hotel half an hour later, in complete ignorance as yet of the bare fact of the murder, he found on his table an envelope addressed, in an unknown hand, "Guy Waring, Esq.," while below in the corner, twice underlined, were the importunate words, "IMMEDIATE! IMPORTANT!"
Meanwhile " and here Gilbert Gildersleeve's eyes fell upon Elma once more with a quiet forensic smile he would call one witness, on the spur of the moment, whom he hadn't thought till that very morning of calling, but whom the magistrates would allow to be a very important one a lady from Chetwood Miss Elma Clifford. Elma, taken aback, stood up in the box and gave her evidence timidly.
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