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Updated: May 21, 2025
The difficulty was that I had dropped out. John Hatton they knew, and Sidney Price they knew; but who was James Orlebar Cloyster? There would be much creaking of joints and wobbling of wheels before my triumphal car could gather speed again. But, with a regular salary coming in week by week from the Orb, I could endure this. I became almost cheerful.
And meanwhile" he lowered his voice, and seemed surprised that the orchestra did not strike up the slow music "meanwhile, I shall ask Eva to wait." To wait! The colossal, the Napoleonic impudence of the man! I have known men who seemed literally to exude gall, but never one so overflowing with it as James Orlebar Cloyster.
When Walter Fetherston took his seat beside Enid Orlebar at the luncheon table a flood of strange recollections crowded upon his mind those walks along the Miramar, that excursion to Pampeluna, and those curious facts which she had unwittingly revealed to him in the course of their confidential chats.
"Then Enid Orlebar killed him?" "That if she actually did not kill him with her own hand, she at least knew well who did," was the other's cold, hard reply. "She killed him for two reasons; first, because by poor Harry's death she prevented the exposure of some great secret!" Walter Fetherston made no reply.
But surely it's very unselfish of you to be so concerned over Blake's business." "Blake's business be jiggered," I said. "It's my business, too. I'm doing for Mister James Orlebar Cloyster exactly what Blake's doing. And I'm making money. You don't understand." "On the contrary, I'm just beginning to understand. You see, I'm doing for Mr.
Walter held up a hurricane lantern which he had found and lit, when its dim, uncertain light fell upon the two prisoners in the crowd. Behind stood Summers, while before him, to Fetherston's utter amazement, showed Enid Orlebar, pale and terrified, and the grey, sinister face of Doctor Weirmarsh.
The editors who have been taking your stuff hitherto may have a respect for the name of James Orlebar Cloyster which they may not extend to the name of John Smith or George Chandos, or whoever it is. I mean, it's quite likely the withdrawal of the name will lead to the rejection of the manuscript." "Oh no; that's all right," I said. "It's the stuff they want, not the name.
Then he got into the way of taking me down to a Boys' Club that he had started. Terrors they were, so to put it. Fair out-and-out terrors. But they all thought a lot of the Reverend, and so did I. Consequently it was all right. The next link in the chain was a chap called Cloyster. James Orlebar Cloyster. The Reverend brought him down to teach boxing.
He was the soul of honour outwardly. He was the essence of sympathetic tact as far as his specious exterior went. Then came the 27th of May. On that date the first of James Orlebar Cloyster's masks was removed. I had breakfasted earlier than usual, so that by the time I had walked from Rupert Court to Walpole Street it was not yet four o'clock. James was out. I thought I would wait for him.
"Yes; she was the woman who loved him so passionately," replied Trendall "Enid Orlebar." "Then you really suspect her?" asked Fetherston breathlessly. "Only as far as certain facts are concerned; and that since Harry's death she has been unceasingly interested in the career of the man Barker." "Are you quite certain of this?" gasped Fetherston. "Quite; it is proved beyond the shadow of a doubt."
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