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Updated: May 16, 2025
Bashwood in my confidence. "I suspect I am more upset by all this than I supposed. Midwinter's story is beginning to haunt me again, without rhyme or reason. "A soft, quick, trembling knock at the street door! I know who it is. No hand but old Bashwood's could knock in that way." "Nine o'clock. I have just got rid of him. He has surprised me by coming out in a new character.
Insensibly, as he looked round, Midwinter's thoughts reverted to the comrade who had shared with him the adventure of the night. He returned to the after-part of the ship, spoke to Allan as he advanced. Receiving no answer, he approached the recumbent figure and looked closer at it. Left to his own resources, Allan had let the fatigues of the night take their own way with him.
He looked at Midwinter with a compassionate smile. "My young friend," he said, kindly, "have you cleared your mind of all superstition as completely as you think? Is what you have just said worthy of the better resolution at which you arrived last night?" Midwinter's head drooped on his breast; the color rushed back over his face; he sighed bitterly.
Midwinter's way than mine. Mr. Midwinter is the gentleman who came here with me last night; and mind this, Richard, you're all to show him as much attention as you show me. Where are we now? What's this door at the back? Billiard-room and smoking-room, eh? Jolly. Another door! and more stairs! Where do they go to? and who's this coming up?
Two days after Midwinter's departure from Thorpe Ambrose, Mrs. Milroy, having completed her morning toilet, and having dismissed her nurse, rang the bell again five minutes afterward, and on the woman's re-appearance asked impatiently if the post had come in. "Post?" echoed the nurse. "Haven't you got your watch? Don't you know that it's a good half-hour too soon to ask for your letters?"
Several of the sailors are talking of spotted dog, sea-pie, and Lockhart's with great feeling. Some one mentions nut-food, whereat the conversation becomes general, and we all decide to buy one pound's worth of it as soon as we get to civilization, and retire to a country house to eat it undisturbed. At present we really mean it, too!" Midwinter's day, the great Polar festival, was duly observed.
I've orders to give. Be very particular with Mr. Midwinter's room: shake up his bed like mad, and dust his furniture till those nice round arms of yours ache again. Nonsense, my dear fellow! I'm not too familiar with them; I'm only keeping them up to their work. Now, then, Richard! where do we breakfast? Oh, here.
"But tell me first, was I right or wrong last night in thinking you disapproved of my falling in love with Miss Gwilt?" Midwinter's lean, nervous fingers began to crumble the bread in his plate. His eyes looked away from Allan for the first time. "If you have any objection," persisted Allan, "I should like to hear it."
When he had done, it struck him that a sudden silence had fallen on the cabin; and, looking up, he observed that Midwinter's whole attention was strangely concentrated on the half crown as it lay head uppermost on the table. Allan suspended his whistling in astonishment. "What on earth are you doing?" he asked. "I was only wondering," replied Midwinter. "What about?" persisted Allan.
Free from all mental disquietude on this score, Allan had stoutly preserved his perverse interest in his new friend. What was Mr. Brock to do? There was no denying that Midwinter's conduct had pleaded unanswerably against poor Mrs. Armadale's unfounded distrust of him.
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