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Updated: June 5, 2025
"Stand where you are. For whom is that note?" "For Mr. Clement Searle," said the butler, staring straight before him and dissociating himself from everything. "Who gave it to you?" "Mrs. Horridge, sir." This personage, I afterwards learned, was our friend the housekeeper. "Who gave it Mrs. Horridge?" There was on Tottenham's part just an infinitesimal pause before replying.
There was nothing assertive about it. It was quite unconscious. She seemed profoundly agitated by Lady O'Gara's visit, her colour coming and going, her eyes dilated. She had put out a hand as Susan Horridge went away, almost as though she would have detained her by force. "Please forgive my coming in like this," Lady O'Gara said. "I was knocking for some time, but you did not hear me.
Do you mind, sir, if I lock the door?" "Go ahead," Sir Henry assented. He brought the whisky and soda himself across the room. Horridge resumed his seat and held out his hand almost eagerly. For a moment or two he shook as though he had an ague. Then, just as suddenly as it had come upon him, the fit passed.
And our Rector's wife, Mrs. Farmiloe, she gave me a silver thimble when I was nine a prize for needlework. Lady Frances used to say, 'Don't you keep her too close to work, Mrs. Horridge.
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