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Updated: June 28, 2025
Consummate care, precision, and brains characterized his work as an actor always, but his chief ambition lay another way. Rosencrantz and the rest were his school of stage-craft. Kyrle Bellew, the Osric of the production, was another man of the future, though we did not know it. He was very handsome, a tremendous lady-killer!
All I have done to-day is to ask another man to act for me. I count from to-morrow " "Why from to-morrow?" "Because to-morrow I mean to act for myself." "How?" "I shall go to Blackwater by the first train, and return, I hope, at night." "To Blackwater!" "Yes. I have had time to think since I left Mr. Kyrle. His opinion on one point confirms my own.
After some pondering, I determined to write to the only honest man within reach whom we could trust to help us discreetly in our forlorn situation. That man was Mr. Gilmore's partner, Mr. Kyrle, who conducted the business now that our old friend had been obliged to withdraw from it, and to leave London on account of his health. I explained to Laura that I had Mr.
No, I guess I won't sell the paternal acres; but who wants to buy?" "Kyrle, here, is looking for a farm about the size of yours, and to tell you the truth I should like him for a neighbor. It's dollars to doughnuts that I could give him a whole herd of bulls." "Indeed, you can't do anything of the kind! I wouldn't take a gold dollar from you until I had it tested. I'm on to your curves."
He put the questions sharp, suspicious, unbelieving questions, which clearly showed me, as they proceeded, that he thought I was the victim of a delusion, and that he might even have doubted, but for my introduction to him by Miss Halcombe, whether I was not attempting the perpetration of a cunningly-designed fraud. "Do you believe that I have spoken the truth, Mr. Kyrle?"
Mighty useful! For there's nothin' phony about my new Uncle Kyrle, take it from me! Say, I expect it ain't good form to get chesty over your relations, specially when they're so new as mine; but I've got to hand it to Mr. Kyrle Ballard. After three weeks' tryout he shapes up as some grand little great-uncle, take it from me!
But her face became troubled when I spoke next of the men who had followed me from the lawyer's office, and when I told her of the discovery of Sir Percival's return. "Bad news, Walter," she said, "the worst news you could bring. Have you nothing more to tell me?" "I have something to give you," I replied, handing her the note which Mr. Kyrle had confided to my care.
"It's by me," says I. "Aunty told me to wait, didn't she? Well, let's." Which we done, sittin' there sociable, and every now and then swappin' smiles as the conversation in the next room took a new turn. Fin'lly Uncle Kyrle remarks: "You had your little niece with you then, didn't you?" "Little Verona? Oh, yes," says Aunty. "She is still with me. Rather grown up now, though. I must send for her.
In the absence of any means of ascertaining the exact date of Lady Glyde's departure from Blackwater Park, the result of the doctor's and the servants' evidence, and of the volunteered statements of Count Fosco and his wife, was conclusive to the mind of Mr. Kyrle.
My! ain't she the gentle, cooin' dove, though? Now they're gettin' acquainted. So this was where Uncle Kyrle spoke of callin'! Hot time he picked out for it, didn't he, with me here in the condemned cell? Say, what do you know about that, eh?" Vee smothers another giggle, and slips one of her hands into mine. "Don't you care!" says she, whisperin'. "And isn't it thrilling? But what shall we do?"
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