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Updated: May 31, 2025
On reflection I had felt the necessity, in Anne Catherick's state of health, of precipitating events, and of having Lady Glyde at my disposal earlier than I had originally contemplated. What fresh directions, in the terrible uncertainty of my position, could I now issue? I could do nothing but trust to chance and the doctor.
"Miss Halcombe," he said, "I am happy to inform you that Lady Glyde is mistress again in her own house. I thought it might be more agreeable to you to hear of this change for the better from me than from Sir Percival, and I have therefore expressly returned to mention it."
Lady Glyde, who watched her as attentively as I did, discovered nothing either. I never detected a sign of the medicine bottles being tampered with, I never saw Mrs. Rubelle say a word to the Count, or the Count to her. She managed Miss Halcombe with unquestionable care and discretion.
Under these circumstances, I could only inform Sir Percival that my services were at the disposal of Miss Halcombe and Lady Glyde. It was thereupon arranged that I should leave the next morning, that I should occupy one or two days in examining all the most convenient houses in Torquay, and that I should return with my report as soon as I conveniently could.
Leveret still secretly regarded ethics as something vaguely pagan. Even to Mrs. Ballinger, Osric Dane's question was unsettling, and there was a general sense of gratitude when Laura Glyde leaned forward to say, with her most sympathetic accent: "You must excuse us, Mrs. Dane, for not being able, just at present, to talk of anything but 'The Wings of Death."
Benson: her attitude to the stout woman was that of favourite pupil to a family governess of immemorial service. She could wheedle Mrs. Benson, and often did. The elder sister attitude was kept for young Glyde; she admonished, scolded, preached to him high doctrine of duty and honour; there was something benignant, a sort of pitying care shed from above.
"My sight seems to be failing me," he muttered to himself, in an odd, muffled voice. He slowly set the glass up again, refilled it, and drained it once more at a draught. I began to fear, from his look and manner, that the wine was getting into his head. "Pray don't write to Count Fosco," persisted Lady Glyde, more earnestly than ever.
He told me himself this morning that there was no fear, and no need to send for another doctor." "With all respect to Mr. Dawson," I answered, "in your ladyship's place I should remember the Count's advice." Lady Glyde turned away from me suddenly, with an appearance of despair, for which I was quite unable to account. "HIS advice!" she said to herself. "God help us HIS advice!"
She had also tried hard to induce Anne to be content with writing to Lady Glyde, in the first instance; but the failure of the warning contained in the anonymous letter sent to Limmeridge had made Anne resolute to speak this time, and obstinate in the determination to go on her errand alone. Mrs.
He looked grand in his deep mourning, with his big solemn face, and his slow walk, and his broad hatband that he did! In conclusion. I have to say, in answer to questions put to me That neither I nor my fellow-servant ever saw my master give Lady Glyde any medicine himself. That he was never, to my knowledge and belief, left alone in the room with Lady Glyde.
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