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Updated: June 25, 2025
Shifty Dick and the other rascal had been caught, and were in prison, waiting their trial at the next assizes. Mr. and Mrs. Knifton had been so shocked at the danger I had run for which they blamed their own want of thoughtfulness in leaving the pocketbook in my care that they had insisted on my father's removing from our lonely home to a cottage on their land, which we were to inhabit rent free.
His wife snatched it out of his hand, opened it, and drew out some bank-notes, put them back again immediately, and, closing the pocketbook, stepped across the room to my poor mother's little walnut-wood book-case, the only bit of valuable furniture we had in the house. "What are you going to do there?" asked Mr. Knifton, following his wife. Mrs.
I was just getting the unlucky tea-caddy out of my cupboard, when I heard footsteps in the passage, and, running out immediately, saw two men walk into the kitchen the room in which I had received Mr. and Mrs. Knifton. I inquired what they wanted sharply enough, and one of them answered immediately that they wanted my father.
The farm-lands stretched down gently into a beautiful rich valley, lying nicely sheltered by the high platform of the moor. When the ground began to rise again, miles and miles away, it led up to a country house called Holme Manor, belonging to a gentleman named Knifton. Mr.
What do I feel here?" and she tapped her husband on the chest, just over the breast-pocket of his coat. Mr. Knifton laughed again, and produced his pocketbook.
Knifton had accused her husband of inveterate extravagance, and of never being able to go out with money in his pocket without spending it all, if he possibly could, before he got home again. Mr. Knifton had laughingly defended himself by declaring that all his pocket-money went in presents for his wife, and that, if he spent it lavishly, it was under her sole influence and superintendence.
"We will see if I am to be misrepresented in this way with impunity. I am the spendthrift, am I? And you are only the banker? Very well. Banker, give me my money at once, if you please!" Mr. Knifton laughed, and took some gold and silver from his waistcoat pocket. "No, no," said Mrs. Knifton, "you may want what you have got there for necessary expenses. Is that all the money you have about you?
This was not an easy matter to compass in a poor house like ours, where we had nothing valuable to put under lock and key. After running over various hiding-places in my mind, I thought of my tea-caddy, a present from Mrs. Knifton, which I always kept out of harm's way in my own bedroom.
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