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Updated: June 1, 2025
Pettifer, and fell into a stupor of utter misery and black despair. Nothing seemed to rouse her. It chanced, however, that Mrs. Pettifer was a subscriber of the Paddiford Lending Library. From that village treasure-trove she had borrowed the biography that was lying on the table when, like a hunted deer, poor Janet took shelter in her home.
First of all I don't know Irene Pettifer; I've never even seen her photograph she's not young, not married, and an entirely different sort of person. 'What did I tell you? I knew it wasn't; I only said that to draw you. However, have a little more tea, or some iced coffee, it's so much more refreshing I always think. My dear Willie, I was only chaffing you.
And she had heard it, for by and by the casement of her window was opened, and Janet perceived that she was bending out to try and discern who it was at the door. 'It is I, Mrs. Pettifer; it is Janet Dempster. Take me in, for pity's sake. 'Merciful God! what has happened? 'Robert has turned me out. I have been in the cold a long while. Mrs.
But I have to catch an early train to London. Even to-night my day's work's not over. I must sit up for an hour or two over a brief." Stella rose at the same time as Mrs. Pettifer. "I was hoping that you would be able to come across and see my little cottage to-morrow morning," she said. Thresk hesitated as he took her hand. "I should very much like to see it," he said.
Tell Tom Pettifer, my steward, to consider himself on duty, and to look after your people till we come back; you'll find he'll have made himself useful to 'em already, and will be quite acceptable." All was done as Captain Jorgan directed.
"That question too has troubled me"; and Thresk turned back again. "You see," he explained, "I was not known to be in Bombay at all. On the contrary I was supposed to be somewhere in the Red Sea or the Mediterranean on my way back to England." Mr. Pettifer looked up in surprise. The statement was news to him and if true provided a natural explanation of some of his chief perplexities.
The reason why Ballantyne asked me to take the photograph of Bahadur Salak was that since I was going on board straight from the train it could be no danger to me." "Then why didn't you go straight on board?" asked Pettifer. "I'll tell you," Thresk replied.
Pettifer, she said, 'tell mother, when she comes back, I'm gone to see what has become of those poor Lakins in Butchers Lane. I know they're half starving, and I've neglected them so, lately. And then, I think, I'll go on to Mrs. Crewe. I want to see the dear little woman, and tell her myself about my going to hear Mr. Tryan. She won't feel it half so much if I tell her myself.
Captain Jorgan, having doubled himself up to laugh with that hearty good- nature which is quite exultant in the innocent happiness of other people, had undoubted himself, and was going to start a new subject, when there appeared coming down the lower ladders of stones, a man whom he hailed as "Tom Pettifer, Ho!"
He went on in the low quiet voice he had used before, rather like one talking to himself than to a companion. "I should very much like to put a question or two to Mr. Thresk." "Then why don't you?" exclaimed Mrs. Pettifer. "You know him." "Yes." Mr. Hazlewood eagerly seconded his sister. "Since you know him you are the very man." Pettifer shook his head. "It would be an impertinence.
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