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Updated: May 17, 2025
Just two hours ago he had been in his own comfortable library, smiling at Miss Penkridge's ideas about the very matters into one of which he was now plunged. He would not have been surprised if he had suddenly awoke, to find that all this was a bad dream, induced by the evening's conversation. But just then he came to the passage in which the murder had been committed.
"Miss Wickham will be all right for a while under my aunt's care," he said, with a smile that had a certain meaning in it which was not lost on Mr. Pawle or on Mr. Carless, "but there are matters connected with her which ought not to wait, even for ten minutes hanging round Miss Penkridge's tea-table.
"Extraordinary!" muttered Viner. "What a piece of luck!" "No, sir!" said Drillford, stoutly. "No luck at all just a bit of good common-sense thinking on the part of a shrewd woman. But you'll want to know what we did. I was so absolutely certain of the truth of Miss Penkridge's theory that I immediately made preparations for a descent on Cortelyon's house.
It may have been revenge. It may be that Ashton had to be got out of the way. And I shouldn't wonder a bit if that isn't at the bottom of it, which is at the top and bottom of pretty nearly everything!" "And that, ma'am?" asked Mr. Pawle, who evidently admired Miss Penkridge's shrewd observations, "that is what, now?" "Money!" said Miss Penkridge. "Money!"
And Viner, knowing Miss Penkridge's peculiar humour, rose to the occasion. "My dear aunt," he said in a hushed voice, "these gentlemen, having heard of your extraordinary achievement this afternoon, have come to lay at your feet their united tribute of " Miss Penkridge shot a warning glance through her steel-rimmed spectacles. "Don't talk nonsense, Richard!" she exclaimed sharply.
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