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Updated: June 8, 2025
As the yarn progressed for Watts and Schmidt and Norrie had joined them, and the whole party was seated in an inner room where an impromptu meal was provided both the woman of Brazil and the man of Lancashire seized on the same unspoken motif. Every incident centered in the striking personality of Philip Hozier.
His own first name was the unobjectionable monosyllable John though he had always been known by his less familiar middle name, Norrie and as John Ford he could have faced the world with a certain amount of bluff.
I used to dream about him. I remembered what Mrs. Wayne had told me my mother had done for my father. I was proud of that. Though I knew only vaguely what it was, I was sure it was what I should have done, too. So when there was talk of breaking into the jail and helping Norrie to escape, I used to think how easily I could keep any one hidden in my studio.
In speaking in this way the man who had been Norrie Ford was consciously doing violence to himself. His natural tendency was to be on friendly terms with those around him, and he had no prompting stronger than the liking to be liked. In normal conditions he was always glad to do a kindness; and when he hurt any one's feelings he hurt his own still more.
And of the compact with Joshua Wream and of Norrie he told nothing. "Three days ago I did not know that you could be heir to this property," he concluded. "I've been interested in books and have left legal matters to those who controlled them for me." He rose hastily, for Burleigh, saying nothing, was looking at him with wide-open brown eyes that seemed to look straight into his soul.
I have your business matters entrusted to me, ready to close up as soon as you are 'legally graduated' according to my brother's wishes, but you may as well know them now." He paused, and Elinor, thinking of the moonlight, maybe, waited in peaceful silence. "Norrie, when I finished at the university my brother put a small fortune into my hands and bade me go West and build a new Harvard.
Of what use was it to be as free as wind if he was to be as homeless? It was not merely that he was homeless for the moment; that was nothing; the overwhelming reflection was that he, Norrie Ford, could never have a home at all that there was scarcely a spot within the borders of civilized mankind where the law would not hunt him out.
"Festus is looking around for you. They'll be over here in a minute. No! Don't get up yet. I want you to do something for me." "What is it, Norrie?" "I'm not going to feel well, about supper-time." "Why not?" "Would you feel well if you'd been in to dinner three times in the last week with Will Douglas, and then had to go in to supper with him, too?" "But I thought you and Will "
The possibility of their guilt, having been considered, was dismissed with few formalities. The conviction of Norrie Ford became easy after that the more respectable people of the neighborhood being agreed that from the evidence presented no other deduction could be drawn.
A housekeeper called Betty Norrie, who lived for many years at Allanbank, declared that other people besides herself had so frequently seen Jean that they had grown quite accustomed to her, and were, consequently, no more alarmed at her appearance than they were by her noises.
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