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Updated: June 27, 2025
"For God's sake " Crowder broke out, but Knowles cut him off. "I bid you good-afternoon," he said, sharply. We all started toward him, but before we'd got half across the room he was gone, and the door slammed behind him. Bob dropped into a chair; he was looking considerably pale; I guess I was, too, but Genz was ghastly. "Let me out of here," he said in a sick voice. "Let me out of here!"
"Indeed! that is the reason, then, I suppose, why no one has answered my message to come up and see Ishmael. But who is sick there?" inquired Claudia. "Mrs. Gray. Good-afternoon, Miss Merlin," said the doctor shortly, as he walked out of the house attended by the judge. Claudia went to the door of Ishmael's room and rapped softly. Old Katie answered the summons.
Rand's voice came out of the depths of the room that was now just light enough to see the written word. "I am here, Mr. Lynch." He rose and came forward. "Good-afternoon, gentlemen good-afternoon, Mr. Wickham!" "Did you hear?" asked Wickham coolly. "Well, it is a laurel garden, you know! Mr. Lynch, let's have candles " "Yes, sir," said Mr. Lynch. "Colonel Ambler Mr. Carrington Mr. Rutherfoord Mr.
He looked like one hard to drive and equally hard to turn, the sort from which fanatics are made. Primmie scuttled away to the dining room. Galusha rose. "Good-afternoon, Captain Hallett," he said. Jethro regarded him from beneath the heavy brows. "You know Mr. Bangs, Cap'n Jeth," said Martha. "You met this mornin', didn't you?" The light keeper nodded.
"Andrés will be starting too, right away." Rafael, in reply, wished a blunt "good-afternoon" to his mother and don Andrés, who were still at table sipping their coffee, and strode out of the dining-room.
"I am going to find her; I want to understand this mystery. I will give her your message, Mr. Flint, but I think there is a mistake." Saying which she bade him a hasty good-afternoon, for the flutter of a scarlet shawl had reached her eyes. No one but Flossy wore such a wrap as that. She wanted to see her at once, and she didn't want Mr. Charlie Flint to be along.
We got off, paid our fare, and the trap rattled back on its way to Leatherhead. "I thought it as well," said Holmes as we climbed the stile, "that this fellow should think we had come here as architects, or on some definite business. It may stop his gossip. Good-afternoon, Miss Stoner. You see that we have been as good as our word."
So thus it was that as the Sergeant presently came striding along on his homeward way, he was suddenly aware of Miss Anthea standing before him; whereupon he halted, and removing his hat, wished her a "good-afternoon!" "Sergeant," said she, "will you do something for me?" "Anything you ask me, Miss Anthea, mam, ever and always." "I want you to take this letter to Mr. Cassilis, will you?"
Daney." "Splendid fellow, young Donald! Thundering fine boy!" "I agree with you, Mr. Daney. If Donald has a fault, it is his excessive democracy and loyalty to his friends. Thank you so much, Mr. Daney. Good-afternoon." "Not at all not at all! All this is quite confidential, of course, otherwise you would not be here." He bowed her to the door, opened it for her, and bowed again as she passed him.
"Nothing in the world," was the reply; and, replacing the paper, I saw him dexterously tear a narrow slip from the margin. It disappeared in his glove; and, with one hasty nod and "good-afternoon," he vanished. "Well!" I exclaimed, using an expression of the district, "that caps the globe, however!"
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