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Updated: June 19, 2025
But lo! when his father talked everything became clear and distinct; there was no sun at all to be seen, but there was also no darkness. On the contrary, a hundred things grew visible at once, and intelligible and common-sensible as Miss Quiney never contrived to present them.
A pleasure, indeed! . . .Yes, I rarely take wine, but on such an occasion as this an occasion, as I was saying, to felicitate Sir Oliver Vyell on his accession to a title which we, who have served him, best know his capacity to adorn." "Oh, damn!" growled the Collector under his breath. "Half a glassful only!" Miss Quiney entreated, as Mr. Silk poured for her.
It was strange to note how these two of diverse ages between whom for the length of their acquaintance no dispute of mastery had arisen now suddenly and in quick alternation, out of pure love, asserted will against will. "You shall tell me to-morrow. "Hurry, as I must repeat," answered Miss Quiney primly, smoothing down the front of her creased grey satin skirt, "is will be our capital mistake.
He took her hands this time, and laying one over another, kissed the back of the uppermost, but yet so respectfully that Miss Quiney, entering the room just then, supposed him to be merely taking a ceremonious leave. For a few minutes he lingered out his call, hat and walking-cane in hand, talking pleasantly of his last night's guests, and with a smile that assumed his pardon to be granted.
If young Richard Quiney be the son of Shakespeare's friend, Richard Quiney, then, of course, his Latin at the age of eleven would only prove that, if he were a schoolboy at Stratford, ONE Stratford boy could write Latin in the generation following that of Shakespeare. Thus may reason the Baconians.
He tol' me run, get out sedan-chair an' fetch Mis' Josselin along; fetch her back soon as she likes. Chairmen at de door dis moment, waitin'. I mak' 'em run." Ruth stood up. Her hand went to the edge of her bodice open below the throat. "Must I?" she asked, turning from Manasseh to Miss Quiney. Her voice was tense. "I I think so, dear," Miss Quiney answered after a pause.
"Yes, dear" Miss Quiney launched an approving nod towards her "I was about to suggest it, with Sir Oliver's leave. The hour is late, and by the time the sedan-chair returns for me " "There is no reason, Tatty, why we should not return together," said Ruth quietly. "The night is fine; and, with Manasseh for escort, I can walk beside your chair." "Pardon me, ladies," put in Mr. Silk.
But it is worthy of note that, although considerable doubt as to authenticity has smooched the other Shakespearian relics, yet the fact of the poet having been "struck" for a loan by Richard Quiney stands out in a solemn way as the one undisputed thing in the master's career. Little did Mr. Quiney think, when he wrote that letter, that he was writing for the ages.
Judith married Thomas Quiney. The only letter addressed to Shakespeare that can be found is one from the happy father of Thomas, Mr. Richard Quiney, wherein he asks for a loan of thirty pounds. Whether he was accommodated we can not say; and if he was, did he pay it back, is a question that has caused much hot debate.
A narrow gateway here gave access to what had yesterday been a sloping paddock where Miss Quiney grazed a couple of cows. To-day the cows had vanished and given way to a small army of labourers. Broad strips of turf had vanished also and the brown loam was moving downhill in scores of wheel-barrows, to build up the slope to a level.
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