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Updated: June 23, 2025
"Sir Cresswell Oliver said as much to me but no more. Have they said more to you?" "The suspicion seemed to have originated with Petherton. Petherton, in spite of his meek old-fashioned manners, is as sharp an old bird as you'll find in London! He fastened at once on what Bassett Oliver said to that fisherman, Ewbank. A keen nose for a scent, Petherton's!
And there are three people Mr. Petherton and I would like to speak to, privately the fisherman, Ewbank, Mr. Marston Greyle, and Mrs. Valentine Greyle. We should like to hear Ewbank's story for ourselves; we certainly want to see the Squire; and I, personally, wish to see Mrs. Greyle because, from what Mr.
Both listened in silence and with deep attention; when all the facts had been put before them, they went aside and talked together; then they returned and Sir Cresswell besought Stafford and Copplestone's attention. "I want to tell you young gentlemen precisely what Mr. Petherton and I think it best to do," he said in the mild and bland accents which had so much astonished Copplestone.
And the next thing," concluded the old lawyer, with a shrewd glance at Sir Cresswell, "is to find out if the Marston Greyle who landed at Falmouth is the same man whom we have recently seen!" Sir Cresswell Oliver took the cablegram from Petherton and read it over slowly, muttering the precise and plain wording to himself.
And the next thing, now that we know Marston Greyle lies behind us there, is to get back to town and catch the chap who took his place. We'll wire to Swallow and to Petherton and get the next express." Sir Cresswell Oliver and Petherton were in conference with Swallow at the solicitor's office when Gilling and Copplestone arrived there in the early afternoon.
Brook, politely to invoke the aid of the idea of habit. "Look here you must help me," the Duchess said to Petherton. "You can, perfectly and it's the first thing I've yet asked of you." "Oh, oh, oh!" her interlocutor laughed. "I must have Mitchy," she went on without noticing his particular shade of humour. "Mitchy too?" he appeared to wish to leave her in no doubt of it.
Brookenham had placed himself, side by side with the child, on a distant little settee, but it was impossible to make out from the countenance of either if a sound had passed between them. Aggie's little manner was too developed to show, and her host's not developed enough. "Oh he's awfully careful," Lord Petherton reassuringly observed.
"There has always been some man I've always known there has. And now it's Petherton," said his companion. "But where's the attraction?" "In HIM? Why lots of women could tell you. Petherton has had a career." "But I mean in old Jane." "Well, I dare say lots of men could tell you. She's no older than any one else. She has also such great elements."
He has forty thousand a year, an excellent idea of how to take care of it and a good disposition." Mrs. Brookenham sat still; she only looked up at her friend. "Is it by Lord Petherton that you know of his excellent idea?" The Duchess showed she was challenged, but also that she made allowances. "I go by my impression. But Lord Petherton HAS spoken for him." "He ought to do that," said Mrs.
Petherton, Combwich, and Dowsborough are good places, where a king may die in a ring of foes, looking out over the land for which his life is given." "We shall not fail, my king," said Heregar. "Devon will gather to you across the Quantocks also." "Ay," he said; "and you will need them with you."
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