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Updated: June 26, 2025
"I haven't a solicitor at all," said Walter Hine, as he, too, rose. "Oh, haven't you?" said Mr. Jarvice, with all the appearance of surprise. "Well, shall I give you an introduction to one?" He sat down, wrote a note, placed it in an envelope, which he left unfastened, and addressed it. Then he handed the envelope to his client. "Messrs. Jones and Stiles, Lincoln's Inn Fields," he said.
The tour upon the Continent must be abandoned, and with it the journey under canvas to the near East a scheme so simple, so sure, so safe. Still Garratt Skinner might confidently be left to devise another. And he had always kept faith. To that comforting thought Mr. Jarvice clung. He sealed up his letter in the end, and stood for a moment or two with the darkness deepening about him.
He came into disagreement with that very arbitrary body the Incorporated Law Society, so, well his name does not figure in the firm. But he is Jones and Stiles. Tell him everything! If he advises you against my proposal, I shall even say take his advice. Good-morning." Mr. Jarvice went to the door and opened it.
Indeed, on more than one occasion he had found it quite a hindrance to the development of his little plans. To go his own quiet way, unheralded by the press and unacclaimed of men that was the modest ambition of Mr. Jarvice. "However, I don't look forward to handing over a thousand pounds to Captain Barstow," he continued, softly. "No, indeed.
"Thank you! Will you ask Mr. Driver to come to the telephone"; and with Mr. Driver he talked genially for the space of five minutes. Then, and not till then, with a smile of satisfaction, Mr. Jarvice turned to the unopened letters which had come to him by the morning post. That summer was long remembered in Chamonix.
Your circumstances are not, I think, in a very flourishing condition." "I should think not," said Walter Hine, sullenly. "I have a hundred and fifty a year, paid weekly. Three quid a week don't give a fellow much chance of a flutter." "Three pounds a week. Ridiculous!" cried Mr. Jarvice, lifting up his hands. "I am shocked, really shocked. But we will alter all that.
Jarvice make Walter Hine an allowance? And how would Walter Hine's death profit him? Chayne pondered over those two questions and then the truth flashed upon him. He remembered how the subaltern had been extracted from his difficulties. Money had been raised by a life insurance. Again Chayne ranged his facts in order. "Walter Hine is the heir to great wealth. But he has no money now. Mr.
He falls into Garratt Skinner's hands, who, with the help of Barstow and others, proceeds to pluck him. Walter Hine loses more than he has and applies to Jarvice for more. Jarvice elicits the facts, and instead of disclosing who Garratt Skinner is, and the obvious swindle of which Hine is the victim, takes Garratt Skinner into his confidence. What happened at the interview between Mr.
Somehow Jarvice would be getting the better of him. In his dull way he began to reason matters out. "But suppose I died before my uncle, then you would get nothing," he objected. "Ah, to be sure! I had not forgotten that point," said Mr. Jarvice. "It is a contingency, of course, not very probable, but still we do right to consider it."
"You seem to have taken a lot of trouble to find out my history," said Walter Hine, suspiciously. "Business, sir, business," said Mr. Jarvice. It was on the tip of his tongue to add, "The early bird, you know," but he was discreet enough to hold the words back. "Now let me look to the future, which opens out in a brighter prospect. It is altogether absurd, Mr.
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