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Updated: June 26, 2025
The door of his father's sitting-room was ajar, and the lawyer heard his son's step in the hall. "Is that you, Arthur?" he asked. "Yes, father," the young man answered, going into the room. "I want to speak to you very particularly. I suppose this wedding at Maudesley Abbey has put all serious business out of your head." "What serious business, father?"
He took the road leading to Maudesley Abbey, and walked at a brisk pace, heedless of the snow, which was still falling thick and fast. He was covered from head to foot with snow when he stopped before the stone porch, and rang a bell, that made a clanging noise in the stillness of the night.
"I do not believe that Henry Dunbar murdered my my unhappy father." It is impossible to describe the tone of anguish with which Margaret spoke those last three words. "But something transpired in that interview at Maudesley Abbey, Margaret?
Other murders were committed as brutal in their nature as the murder in the grove; and the world, which rarely stops long to lament for the dead, began to think of other things. Joseph Wilmot was forgotten. A month passed very quietly at Maudesley Abbey.
He was so happy with Laura; so happy in those pleasant meetings under the Maudesley elms, that no thought of anything so commonplace as a stereotyped proposal of marriage had a place in his mind. Did he love her?
I shuddered at the rapid course of justice when once a criminal mystery is revealed. "'But what if you should be mistaken! What if Joseph Wilmot was the victim and not the murderer?" "'In that case I shall soon discover my mistake. If the man at Maudesley Abbey is Henry Dunbar, there must be plenty of people able to identify him. "'But Henry Dunbar has been away five-and-thirty years.
They had come to Maudesley to act as her bridesmaids, according to that favourite promise which young ladies so often make to each other, and so very often break. Laura did not appear to take much interest in the Miss Melvilles' hair. She was very meditative about something; but her meditations must have been of a pleasant nature, for there was a smile upon her face.
He had wanted to leave Maudesley; he had wanted to go abroad to go upon a journey that was no new purpose in his mind. Had he actually set out upon that journey? Yes, surely, he must have started upon it; but what had happened, then? He asked the surgeon what had happened, and why it was that he found himself in that strange place. Mr.
Dunbar, of Maudesley Abbey, who has been missing since four o'clock this morning." The gentleman in the easy-chair was smoking a meerschaum. As Mr. Carter said those two words, "four o'clock," his teeth made a little clicking noise upon the amber mouthpiece of the pipe. The detective heard the sound, slight as it was, and drew his inference from it.
Remember how happy we have been together; little children playing with flowers and butterflies in the gardens at Maudesley; boy and girl, rambling hand-in-hand beside the wandering Avon; man and woman standing in mournful silence by your grandfather's deathbed. The past is a bond of union betwixt us, Laura.
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