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Updated: June 24, 2025
Trevelyan heard what had been done, which she did from Mrs. Prodgers herself, Mrs. Prodgers having been desired by her master to make the communication, she declared to her sister that everything was now over. She could never again live with a husband who had disgraced his wife by desiring her own cook to keep a guard upon her.
It was he who had appealed to the squire for assistance in this object, and to him the squire had expressed his opinion that, as his son did not seem anxious to be brought back, he should not interfere in the matter. "Well, Prodgers, what news have you to-day?" asked Augustus. "There is a man a-wandering about down in Skye, just here and there, with nothing in particular to say for himself."
Looking about him, therefore, for some one in his house to whom he could speak, feeling that he was bound to convey the order through some medium, he called to him the ancient cook, and imparted to her so much of his trouble as was necessary to make the order intelligible. This he did with various ill-worded assurances to Mrs. Prodgers that there really was nothing amiss. But when Mrs.
Prodgers, a gentleman belonging to the Lord Ambassador Cottington, and Mr. Sparks, an English merchant, discoursing of news, began to speak of the impudence of that Askew, to come a public minister from rebels to a Court where there were two Ambassadors from his King.
And this was an argument that was, of course, unanswerable. Her name was Priscilla Prodgers, and she was a very good little girl indeed. So good was she, in fact, that she could not help being aware of it herself, and that is a stage to which very many quite excellent persons never succeed in attaining.
But the odd thing is that Prodgers, the policeman, has the same thing running in his head." "Because I have shown some anxiety about your brother in Scotland Yard." "No doubt; Prodgers says that you've shown more anxiety than was to be expected from a mere acquaintance. I quite acknowledge that Prodgers is as thick-headed an idiot as you shall catch on a summer's day; but that's his opinion.
Having seated himself at the round table he would work with coralline industry, and without a single break until six or seven in the evening. It was a standing joke against him in Dr. Burton's family that when at the club he was never at home to anybody except a certain Mrs. Giacometti Prodgers.
Of course if other things come in the way there will be an end of it. Come in." This last invitation was given in consequence of a knock at the door. The door was opened, and there entered a policeman in plain clothes named Prodgers, who seemed from his manner to be well acquainted with Augustus Scarborough.
"That's just what I was saying to Wilkinson," said Prodgers. "Wilkinson seems to think that a man may be anybody as long as nobody knows who he is. 'That ain't the captain, said I." "I'm afraid he's got out of England," said the captain's brother. "There's no place where he can be run down like New York, or Paris, or Melbourne, and it's them they mostly go to.
Good-night, gentlemen." Then Constable Prodgers left the room. Harry had been disconcerted by the policeman's remarks, and showed that it was so as soon as he was alone with Augustus Scarborough. "I'm afraid you think the man intended to be impertinent," said Augustus. "No doubt he did, but such men are allowed to be impertinent."
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