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The town, however, was more titillated than perturbed, for every one said that old Meshach, for the sake of the family's good name, would never under any circumstances permit a catastrophe to occur. The town saw little of Meshach now he had almost ceased to figure in the streets; it knew, however, the Myatt pride in the Myatt respectability.
'And what's going on nowadays in old Bosley, Miss Myatt? he asked expansively, trying to drop his American accent and use the dialect. 'Eh, bless us! exclaimed Hannah, startled. 'Nothing ever happens here, Mr. Arthur. He felt that nothing did happen there. 'Same here as elsewhere, said Meshach. 'People living, and getting childer to worry 'em, and dying. Nothing'll cure 'em of it seemingly.
"God forgive me," cried the rector in the grey of the morning, when it became clear that Myatt had escaped "God forgive me! Through my stupidity a horrible creature has been set loose in the world to work his diabolical will afresh!" "Never mind," said Hewitt. "It was not stupidity, Mr. Potswood nothing but your openness of character.
And it being twins " "Nay, thou old devil, I'll none call it off. Thou owes me half a quid, and I'll have it out of thee." "Look ye here," Charlie said more softly. "I'll tell thee what'll settle it. Which on 'em come first, th' lad or th'wench?" "Th' wench come first," Jos Myatt admitted, with resentful reluctance, dully aware that defeat was awaiting him. "Well, then!
She's nearing her confinement. False alarm. I guaranteed him at least another twelve hours." "Oh! So that's it, is it?" Buchanan murmured. Both the sub-editors raised their heads. "That's it," said the doctor. "Some people were saying he'd quarrelled with the trainer again and was shamming," said Buchanan. "But I didn't believe that. There's no hanky-panky about Jos Myatt, anyhow."
Meshach Myatt! Meshach Myatt! What piquant curious syllables to roll glibly off the tongue, and to repeat for the pleasure of repetition! And what a vision of Meshach their utterance conjured up! At sixty-four, stereotyped by age, fixed and confirmed in singularity, Meshach's figure answered better than ever to his name. He was slight of bone and spare in flesh, with a hardly perceptible stoop.
Now, that is why, when Myatt came here, I took the first steps to hand to get an impression of his finger-tips, in order to compare them with the marks on that paper." "But why," asked the astonished rector, "why did he come back?" "Nothing but a bold measure to see how things were going he came as his own spy, that's all. He's a keen and dangerous man.
Good-night mind how you go on the steps!" Mr. Myatt checked and stumbled in the dark porch, and reached quickly downward. "There's a board standing across the porch," he said. "A board?" replied Hewitt. "So there is. Let me move it, or it'll upset somebody. Good-night!" Mr.
Brett who was with you, and the matter needs hurry. You've heard no more of that fellow Myatt, Hunt, Mayes, whatever his name is last since the barn murder, of course? Has Peytral given you the tip he half promised?" Hewitt shook his head again. "Brett has this moment come to ask the same question," he said. "I have heard nothing." "I must have it," said Plummer, emphatically.
'Better loosen his things, said Leonora, and Rose's fingers were instantly at work to help her. Uncle Meshach was white, rigid, and stonecold; the stiff 'Myatt' jaw was set; the eyes, wide open, looked upwards, and strangely outwards, in a fixed stare.
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