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Updated: June 8, 2025
He was often told that he might pass for an Englishman anywhere, and he was glad to think so. It was a reason the less for being identified as Norrie Ford. It sometimes seemed to him that he could, in case of necessity, go back to North America, to New York, to Greenport, or even to the little county town where he had been tried and sentenced to death, and run no risk of detection.
She herself went back so eagerly to the days when he was the fugitive, Norrie Ford, and she the nameless girl who was helping him, that she could not divine his humiliation at being obliged to drop his mask.
If you read it aloud it will entertain us. It seems to be a thick letter." "I don't think I don't think it it is from Terence," answered Nora. "Nonsense, my dear." "Open it, Norrie, and tell us," said the Squire. "It will be refreshing to hear a bit of outside news." Nora now opened the envelope, and took a very thick sheet of paper out.
She is dressed for all the world as though she were going to a ball at the Lord-Lieutenant's in Dublin. It's past standing; but you had best go down and join 'em, Norrie." "Not I. I am going to stay here," said Nora. "No, no, darling pet; you had best go down, enjoy your dinner, and come back and tell me about it. It will be fun to hear your description.
Old Chris Ford was found dead in his bed shot in his sleep. On the premises there had been but three persons, one of whom must have committed the crime Norrie Ford, and Jacob and Amalia Gramm. Jacob and Amalia Gramm had been the old man's servants for thirty years. Their faithfulness put them beyond suspicion.
Norrie was charming tonight in a dainty red evening gown that set off her pretty face, crowned with beautiful dark hair. Somehow the sight of her made deeper the void in Fenneben's life since that love affair of his own long ago. "Well," Norrie went on, "Uncle says I'm to marry rich, because my papa expected me to.
So they came alongside, under many craning heads of seamen and projecting mouths of guns; so they climbed on board somnambulous, and looked blindly about them at the tall spars, the white decks, and the crowding ship's company, and heard men as from far away, and answered them at random. And then a hand fell softly on Carthew's shoulder. "Why, Norrie, old chappie, where have you dropped from?
"A good name too; only it weren't his. He was a gen'lem'n born, sir, as had gone maskewerading. One of our officers knowed him at 'ome, reckonises him, steps up, 'olds out his 'and right off, and says he, ''Ullo, Norrie, old chappie! he says. The other was coming up, as bold as look at it; didn't seem put out that's where blood tells, sir!
Tom tried once, a year ago in December, to make me believe he could bring Bug back to me if I would care for him for that wicked murderer! Oh, Lloyd!" She nestled close in Dr. Fenneben's protecting arms, and shivered at the thought. "And you named him Burgess for your own name. Does Vincent know?" Fenneben questioned, tenderly smoothing the white hair as Norrie had so often smoothed his own.
An eccentric, childless widower, commonly believed to have broken his wife's heart by sheer bitterness of tongue, old Chris Ford was hated, feared, and flattered by the relatives and time-servers who hoped ultimately to profit by his favor. Norrie Ford neither flattered nor feared his powerful kinsman, but he hated him with the best. His own instincts were city born and bred.
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