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Updated: June 24, 2025
Church entered the breakfast room. He came to the table and, speaking in half lowered voice said: "Lady Plinlimon to see you, your Lordship." "Lady Plinlimon?" "Yes, your Lordship. I have shown her into the smoking room." Jones had finished breakfast. He rose from the table, gathered the letters together, and with them in his hand followed Church from the breakfast room to the smoking room.
A nice thing in the papers to-morrow morning, and intimidation on top of that. Over and above those there's the papers. I'll have no mercy those papers go to Lord Plinlimon to-morrow morning, you'll be in the divorce court this day month, and so will she. Reputation! she won't have a rag to cover herself with." "Oh, won't she?" said Jones. "This is most interesting."
You have seen my rough side. I'm holding the smooth towards you now but there is no occasion to laugh. I'm going to skin Mulhausen." "Well," said Voles. "What have I to do with that?" "You are the knife." "Oh!" "Yes, indeed. Let's talk. When you got that eight thousand from me, you were only the agent of the Plinlimon woman, and she was only the agent of Marcus.
"Oh, you've been to Jermyn Street?" "Yes, my Lord, directly I had served your tea at quarter to eight, I took a taxi." "Good!" said Jones. He took the envelope, and, Church and the Mechanism having withdrawn, he sat down by the window to have a look at the contents. The envelope contained letters. Letters from a man to a woman. Letters from the Earl of Rochester to Sapphira Plinlimon.
She got something, you got something, but Marcus got the most. Julian got something too, but it was Marcus got the joints. He gave you three the head, and the hoofs, and the innards, and the tail. I've had it out with the Plinlimon woman and I know. You were a gang." Voles heaved up in his chair. "What more have you to say?" asked he thickly. "A lot.
He uttered the word mechanically, scarcely knowing what he was saying. That lovely creature his wife! Rochester's wife! "Get in," said the unknown. He had called a taxi. Jones got in. Rochester's wife! The contrast between her and Lady Plinlimon suddenly arose before him, together with the folly of Rochester seen gigantically and in a new light.
There is nothing more difficult to get at than a gang, because they cover each other's traces. I pay you a certain sum in cash, you deduct your commission and hand the remainder over to the Plinlimon woman, she pays her Pa, and gets a few hundred to pay her milliner. Who's to prove anything? No cheques have passed." "Just so," said Voles. "I'm glad you see my point," replied Jones.
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