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Updated: October 24, 2025
A newspaper lay open on the table; she read it idly till these words caught her eye: "The revolt which has paralyzed the hay harvest on Sir Gerald Malloring's Worcestershire estate and led to the introduction of strike-breakers, shows no sign of abatement. A very wanton spirit of mischief seems to be abroad in this neighborhood.
"We came back yesterday," he began; "Nedda and I. You know all about Derek and Nedda, I suppose?" Tod nodded. "What do you think of it?" "He's a good chap." "Yes," murmured Felix, "but a firebrand. This business at Malloring's what's it going to lead to, Tod? We must look out, old man. Couldn't you send Derek and Sheila abroad for a bit?" "Wouldn't go." "But, after all, they're dependent on you."
Dash it all, I don't know what they don't do. Why?" "Are they liked?" "Liked? No, I should hardly think they were liked; respected, and all that. Malloring's a steady fellow, keen man on housing, and a gentleman; she's a bit too much perhaps on the pious side. They've got one of the finest Georgian houses in the country. Altogether they're what you call 'model." "But not human."
So Stanley read at breakfast, in his favorite paper; and the little leader thereon: "The outbreak of fire on Sir Gerald Malloring's Worcestershire property may or may not have any significance as a symptom of agrarian unrest. We shall watch the upshot with some anxiety.
On the 13th of June Sir Gerald Malloring, returning home to dinner from the House of Commons, found on his hall table, enclosed in a letter from his agent, the following paper: "We, the undersigned laborers on Sir Gerald Malloring's estate, beg respectfully to inform him that we consider it unjust that any laborer should be evicted from his cottage for any reason connected with private life, or social or political convictions.
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