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Updated: June 13, 2025
He ceased his restless movement upon his companion's interruption, and for a moment or two gazed at Philip in blank silence. "Well," he said, at last, "have you got anything to say?" "Nothing," said Philip. "It's beyond me, Greggy. For Heaven's sake give me an explanation!" There was nothing womanish in the hard lines of Gregson's face now. He spoke with the suggestion of a sneer.
Lights were burning in the cabins and in the Hudson Bay Post's store when the car was brought to a halt half a hundred paces from a squat, log-built structure, which was more brilliantly illuminated than any of the others. "That's the hotel," said one of the men. "Gregson's there." A tall, fur-clad figure hurried forth to meet Howland as he walked briskly across the open. It was Gregson.
It will tire you sadly." "Not it. You see, there is Gregson's mother to keep quiet for she sits by her lad, fretting and sobbing, so that I'm afraid of her disturbing Mr. Gray; and there's Mr.
'Are ye at it again wi' the siller, ye jaud? Gang doun the gate to Lucky Gregson's and get the things ye want, and bide there till ele'en hours in the morn; and if you see Robin, send him on to me. 'Am I no gaun to the ploy, then? said Maggie, in a disappointed tone.
Gregson's house stood, or nearly so, there was a house which, in the early part of the last century, belonged to a gentleman and his sister named Fabius. Their real name was Bean; but, after the manner of the then learned, they assumed the name of Fabius, from "Faba." Mr. or, as he was called, "Dr."
His eyes shifted nervously and Howland saw that he was making a strong effort to assume an indifference which was not at all Gregson's natural self. "Just a word, Howland," he said. "You know this is a pretty rough country up here some tough people in it, who wouldn't mind cutting a man's throat or sending a bullet through him for a good team of dogs and a rifle.
"It's easy to see this man Gregson's a new hand," said Fontenoy, with an accent of annoyance, as they got clear of the village. "I believe the Wattons have only just imported him, otherwise he'd never have avoided Marraby, and come round by Battage." "Battage has some special connection with Burrows, hasn't it? I had forgotten." "Of course.
You may think me a loon, but I'm going to find out who she is and where she is as soon as I have done with this breakfast." "And Lord Fitzhugh?" A shadow passed over Gregson's face. For a few moments he ate in silence. Then he said: "That's what kept me awake after you had gone thinking of Lord Fitzhugh and this girl. See here, Phil. She isn't one of the kind up here.
Some people would have waited until their advertisements were answered, or until parties came forward and volunteered information. That is not Tobias Gregson's way of going to work. You remember the hat beside the dead man?" "Yes," said Holmes; "by John Underwood and Sons, 129, Camberwell Road." Gregson looked quite crest-fallen. "I had no idea that you noticed that," he said.
I thought the young man had only had her a short time." "Why, father," replied Walter, "I imagine the fact is that Gregson's purse is getting worn into a hole or two." "I understood," remarked Miss Huntingdon, "that his father was a very wealthy man, and allowed his son, as you used to put it, no end of money."
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