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Updated: June 16, 2025
"Mademoiselle Poynton! It is a name unheard of." The young Englishman smiled upon them grimly. "Madame," he said, "you have in your satchel don't move, if you please a roll of French notes indeed you must not move very cleverly abstracted from my pocket by my charming young companion, Mademoiselle Flossie here.
A paper was left in your charge by Miss Phyllis Poynton at the time she was visiting at Runton Place." "What of it?" Duncombe asked. The Frenchman's face was suddenly tense with excitement. He recovered himself almost at once, but his voice shook, and a new earnestness found its way into his manner. "Miss Poynton and her brother are with us," he said. "It is we who have been their benefactors.
Guy Poynton was simply a healthy-minded, not over-intelligent, young Saxon, unambitious, and passionately fond of his home and his country life. He had no friends over here, no interests, no ties of any sort. He was abroad for the first time of his life. He regarded foreign countries and people simply with the tolerant curiosity of the untravelled Britisher.
"It is not," she said, "according to the convenances. Mademoiselle is under my protection. I have not the honor of knowing you, Monsieur." Duncombe raised his eyebrows. "But you remember calling at my house in Norfolk, and bringing Miss Poynton away," he said. She stared at him calmly. "The matter," she said, "has escaped my memory.
He told them that the Protestant God was stronger than the Catholic God worshipped by his fellow countryman, Poynton. In after years, when his converts made cartridges of their Bibles and rejected Christianity, he was forced to confess that their religion was of this world only. They prayed that they might be brave in battle, and that their enemies might be filled with fear.
"And what about Spencer?" Pelham asked grimly. "Spencer in this matter is my servant," Duncombe answered. "If his search for Phyllis Poynton entails his annoying Miss Fielding, then he is dismissed. I will have no more to do with the business." "I have heard of this man Spencer," Andrew answered.
You know a good deal of their peculiar circumstances. A sudden need has arisen for the production of that paper within twenty-four hours. Give it to me now, and I will run the greatest risk I have ever run in my career. I will tear those warrants through." "Have you any authority from Miss Poynton?" Duncombe asked. "There was no time to procure it," Monsieur Louis explained.
I didn't realize, until I saw it, how book-hungry I was. Now I'm cramming history, biography, essays, novels. I know that I'm not reading with any judgment but I'll soon settle down to a more profitable enjoyment of my leisure. Yesterday and to-day I've been reading "The Spoils of Poynton," by Henry James. It is absurd to try cramming these.
SIR, We are about to make application to Parliament for a Commission of Inquiry into the state of laws respecting the fisheries of England and Wales. And Mr. Ashworth, of Poynton, has been so good as to refer me to you, as able and willing to furnish us with information on the subject.
You see, it was really the first time I'd ever been away from home for long, and though my little place isn't a patch on this, of course, still, I was born there, and I'm jolly fond of it." His companion nodded, and his dark eyes rested for a moment upon the other's face. Guy Poynton was idly watching the reapers at work in the golden valley below, and he did not catch his friend's expression.
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