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Updated: May 24, 2025
If there were opposition, the threat of a public prosecution would brush it aside. He must resume the personality of Clifford Matheson; return to Olive; settle a generous income on Elaine. He must wind up his financial affairs and devote himself to the scientific research he had planned. A straight, clean course.
Gertrude did not even recognise him, and he followed the motor to the Westminster flat, distracted by the gloomiest forebodings. Delia was already at the flat to receive her friend, having quietly but passionately insisted, against all the entreaties of Mrs. Matheson and Lady Tonbridge. Winnington helped the nurse and the porter to carry Gertrude Marvell upstairs.
Not at Matheson, but at himself. He ought to have guessed before. This was the one possibility he had completely overlooked. Matheson had tricked him by shamming death. He ought not to have let himself be tricked. That was inexcusable. A moment later he had regained mastery of himself, and a succession of plans flashed past his mental vision, to be considered with lightning speed.
One of the keen joys of her life since coming to the new country she found in her discussions with the Rev. Murdo Matheson, whom, after some considerable hesitation, she had finally chosen to "sit under." The Rev. Murdo's theology was a little narrow for her. She had been trained in the schools of the Higher Critics of the Free Kirk leaders at home.
Matheson had pocketed a flask of brandy when the call of all hands on deck had sent him tumbling out of his berth. He now poured some of the spirit down Olive's throat, and passed the flask on to the men. "Be sparing with it," he warned. Then he set to work to make his moaning wife as comfortable as the terrible circumstances of their plight would permit.
In the house they were all so busy talking and laughing, while Mrs. Gray prepared the meal for Bob, that no one noticed a boat pull into the bight and three men land upon the beach below the cabin; and so, just as they were about to sit down to the table, they were taken completely by surprise when the door opened and in walked Dick Blake, Ed Matheson and Bill Campbell.
"Rachel, do you know who covered my plants up last night?" Miss Matheson nodded. "Yes, it was Tommy Puffer. I saw him working away there with papers and twine. I thought you'd told him to do it." "For the land's sake!" ejaculated Miss Octavia. "Tommy Puffer! Well, wonders will never cease."
That night Jack Maitland felt that a chat with the Reverend Murdo Matheson might help to clear his own mind as to the demands of the Allied Unions. He found the minister in his study and in great distress of soul. "I am glad to see you, Maitland," he said, giving him a hearty greeting. "My hope is largely placed in you and you must not fail me in this crisis.
And now I come to think of it, the information was rather vague. But I gathered that he had vanished, at any rate, and remembering certain earlier episodes in his career, I was led to suppose that this vanishing meant " He shrugged his shoulders significantly. "You mean the old mandarin?" suggested Dr. Matheson. "Yes."
He wrote a long letter to Lars Larssen explaining that John Rivière apparently knew nothing of the disappearance of Clifford Matheson, and detailing the story of Elaine and the vitriol outrage. With the letter he enclosed a bromide print of the snapshot. Inside a room, closely shuttered to keep out the light, Rivière was talking earnestly with Elaine a few days later.
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