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Updated: June 14, 2025
Ledsam," Hilditch said, speaking with quiet dignity, "I hope that you will forgive the liberty I take in speaking to you here. I looked for you the moment I was free this afternoon, but found that you had left the Court. I owe you my good name, probably my life. Thanks are poor things but they must be spoken." "You owe me nothing at all," Francis replied, in a tone which even he found harsh.
"I thought you looked as though you'd been seeing spooks," Wilmore murmured sympathetically. "I have seen a spook," Francis rejoined, with almost passionate seriousness, "a spook who lifted an invisible curtain with invisible fingers, and pointed to such a drama of horrors as De Quincey, Poe and Sue combined could never have imagined. Oliver Hilditch was guilty, Andrew.
Margaret's coffee was untasted, even her cigarette lay unlit by her side. There was a touch of the old horror upon her face. The fingers which he drew into his were as cold as ice. "You must have wondered sometimes," she began, "why I ever married Oliver Hilditch." "You were very young," he reminded her, with a little shiver, "and very inexperienced.
It was only a short time after you had told me the story of Oliver Hilditch, a story which made me realise the horror of spending one's life keeping men like that out of the clutch of the law." "Go on, please," she begged. "Well, I was talking to Andrew. I told him that in future I should accept no case unless I not only believed in but was convinced of the innocence of my client.
"That has sometimes been my duty," Francis acknowledged. Hilditch laughed scornfully. "It is all part of the great hypocrisy of society," he proclaimed.
"I don't see why," one of the bystanders observed. "He got Hilditch off all right. One of the finest addresses to a jury I ever heard."
As a matter of fact, though, Walter is on his last legs. I doubt whether he will live to land in Australia." "You know that I killed Oliver Hilditch?" Sir Timothy said, his eyes fixed upon the other's. "I know that you killed Oliver Hilditch," Francis repeated. "If I had been Margaret's father, I think that I should have done the same." Sir Timothy seemed suddenly very much younger.
There was no change in her face, not a tremor in her tone. "I said nothing," she replied. "I did not speak at all. I was just watching." Hilditch turned back to his guest. "These two fingers," he repeated, "and a flick of the wrist very little more than would be necessary for a thirty yard putt right across the green." Francis had recovered himself, had found his bearings to a certain extent.
It has since transpired, however, that his journey to Europe was undertaken because he was unable to obtain certain figures relating to the business, from Hilditch. Oliver Hilditch met him at Southampton, travelled with him to London and found him a room at the Savoy.
Suddenly Sir Timothy leaned over. He caught hold of Mr. Hilditch's hand which held the hilt of the dagger, and and well, he just drove it in, sir. Then he stood away. Mrs. Hilditch sprang up and would have screamed, but Sir Timothy placed his hand over her mouth. In a moment I heard her say, 'What have you done? Sir Timothy looked at Mr. Hilditch quite calmly.
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