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Updated: June 29, 2025
"I must speak of him," retorted the other. "You want to know what became of Miss Gwilt when she got out of prison, don't you? Very good I'm in a position to tell you. She became Mrs. Manuel. It's no use staring at me, old gentleman. I know it officially.
"Well done, old gentleman!" said Bashwood the younger, surveying his father's dress with a smile of sardonic encouragement. "You're ready to be married to Miss Gwilt at a moment's notice!" The father took the son's hand, and tried to echo the son's laugh. "You have such good spirits, Jemmy," he said, using the name in its familiar form, as he had been accustomed to use it in happier days.
"Anybody for me?" asked Allan, when the servant came in. The man looked at Pedgift Senior, with an expression of unutterable reverence, and answered, "Miss Gwilt." "I don't want to crow over you, sir," said Mr. Pedgift the elder, when the servant had withdrawn. "But what do you think of Miss Gwilt now?" Allan shook his head in silent discouragement and distress. "Time is of some importance, Mr.
"Why do you want to get rid of Miss Gwilt?" she asked. "What have you got to complain of?" "Nothing!" said Neelie. "That's the aggravation of it. Miss Gwilt won't let me have anything to complain of. She is perfectly detestable; she is driving me mad; and she is the pink of propriety all the time. I dare say it's wrong, but I don't care I hate her!" Mrs.
I have formed, since my interview with Miss Gwilt, a very strong opinion of my own on the subject of that lady which it is not necessary to commit to paper. Suffice it to say here that I shall have a means to propose to you for silencing the slanderous tongues of your neighbors, on the success of which I stake my professional reputation, if you will only back me by your presence and authority.
Speak of her, please, by her name when she was innocent, and young, and a girl at school. Would you mind, for my sake, calling her Miss Gwilt?" "Not I! It makes no difference to me what name I give her. Bother your sentiment! let's go on with the facts. This is what the lawyer did before the second trial came off. He told her she would be found guilty again, to a dead certainty.
Pedgift the elder, rapidly overtaking him in the gig, just as Mr. Pedgift had overtaken him once already, on that former occasion when he had listened under the window at the great house, and when the lawyer had bluntly charged him with feeling a curiosity about Miss Gwilt! In an instant the inevitable association of ideas burst on his mind.
They hailed a cab in the street, and started for the hotel which had been the residence of Midwinter and Allan during their stay in London. The instant the door of the vehicle had closed, Mr. Bashwood returned to the subject of Miss Gwilt. "Tell me the rest," he said, taking his son's hand, and patting it tenderly. "Let's go on talking about her all the way to the hotel.
I attach considerable importance if nothing else can be done to having Miss Gwilt privately looked after, as long as she stops at Thorpe Ambrose. It struck me just now at the door, Mr. Armadale, that what you are not willing to do for your own security, you might be willing to do for the security of another person." "What other person?" inquired Allan.
"My dear Miss Milroy," she remonstrated, "there are certain distinctions to be observed. This gentleman is a friend of Mr. Armadale's. You could hardly express yourself more strongly if he was a perfect stranger." "I express my opinion," retorted Neelie, chafing under the satirically indulgent tone in which the governess addressed her. "It's a matter of taste, Miss Gwilt; and tastes differ."
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