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Updated: June 1, 2025
I thought it was enough to tell you she spied him at the theatre." He added a brief account of what had happened between Polly and her uncle, Greenacre listening as if this threw new light on the case. "Then the mistake is mine. It's more interesting than ever. This puts me on my mettle, Gammon. Don't lose courage. I have a wonderful scent in this kind of thing.
Greenacre hid his contempt beneath a smile. "Well now, I repeat that Lord Polperro longs to return to the bosom of his family. He has even gone in the darkness of the night to look at his wife's abode, and returned home in misery. A fact!
As to the quintain, it became more popular among the boys on foot, than it would ever have been among the men on horseback, even had young Greenacre been more successful. It was twirled round and round till it was nearly twisted out of the ground; and the bag of flour was used with great gusto in powdering the backs and heads of all who could be coaxed within the vicinity.
After all, you see, it's home. You understand that? It's really my home. I've been here often at night, just to see the house. The wonder is that I didn't come in before. Of course, I knew I couldn't be welcome but one's wife and child, Greenacre. The real wife, whether the other's alive or not." Gammon started. "What did you say?" he asked in a whisper. "Nothing nothing.
He did not foresee that there would be no opportunity for that interview with his solicitor." "Look here, Greenacre, I Want to know how you found out first of all that he'd married twice." "Very simply; I took it for granted that he had. I am a student, as you know, of genealogy, also of human nature in general.
At the end of a fortnight Greenacre wrote, and that evening they met again at the obscure house of entertainment. "It is not often," said Greenacre, in a despondent tone, "that I have found an inquiry so difficult. Of course it interests me all the more, and I shall go on with it, but I must freely confess that I've got nothing yet absolutely nothing." Gammon observed him vigilantly.
Never was interceding goddess more welcome. 'Come, man, said Mr Greenacre, 'never stick at trifles such a day as this. I know the lad well. Let him bide at my axing. Madam won't miss what he can eat and drink, I know. Now Mr Plomacy and Mr Greenacre were sworn friends.
Kit felt, listening to the four of them go over dear old reminiscences, that it was as though she stood at the curtain of the past, on tiptoe at a peep-hole. The early twilight had already begun to set in by the time they reached the turn of the road below the Greenacre entrance gates.
But neither for this had Polly any present inclination. She wanted to be alone and to reflect. Having made sure that she was not likely to visit Mrs. Clover forthwith, Greenacre took his leave, blending a decent melancholy with the air of importance and hurry proper to a man involved in so much business.
Polly disappeared, and Mr. Gammon again hovered. But who was this approaching? Of all unwelcome people at this moment, hanged if it wasn't Greenacre! What did the fellow want here? He was staring about him as if to make sure of an address. Worse than that, he stepped up to the private door of the coffee-tavern and rang the bell.
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