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Updated: May 5, 2025
"Your father! But he died of typhoid fever you know that as well as I do; there was nothing wrong about it." "They gave him typhoid fever, by means of culture in the milk he was taking. When he was getting well, Sartorius brought on a relapse by means of injecting the pure toxin, deadly stuff. The old man hadn't the ghost of a chance.
Rotten shame about your father. Typhoid's no joke at his time of life." "Still, he seems to be going on fairly well." "So I hear. I've been having a chat with Sartorius. He's by way of being a pal of mine, you know." "Yes, my aunt tells me he did great things for you." "Great!" with a short laugh "I should think he did. You didn't see me at that time, did you?
One never could do that, one always went too fast. She had counted three sixties when the front door closed below and returning footsteps mounted the stairs. One flight, two flights ... the key rasped, the boards creaked, she heard Sartorius saying: "You see now, that is the sort of thing one must be prepared for. Suppose no one had been here?
Sartorius, however, takes the other side, and throws the whole blame upon the careless improvident character of the brown men, whose masters are obliged to lend them money to supply their pressing wants, and must take the only security they can get. He says, and truly enough, that the system works wretchedly both for masters and labourers.
You've not been here before, have you? With Sartorius, I mean?" "No, never." He carefully flicked an ash upon the rug, then looked at her again. "Yet I'm positive I've seen your face somewhere about Cannes." The problem appeared mildly to interest him. "Have you any idea where it could have been?" She regarded him for some seconds, considering what to say. "Yes," she replied deliberately.
Ultimately, of course, it would be impossible to hush the matter up, since he had every intention of prosecuting Sartorius to the full extent of the law, and the man's guilt could not be established without implicating the dead woman. By noon there was nothing more that could be done for the immediate moment. The police had been notified, the inquest set for the day after to-morrow.
The sartorius is one of the fleshy landmarks of the thigh, as the biceps is of the arm, and the sterno-cleido-mastoid of the neck. Its direction and borders may be easily traced by raising the leg, a movement which puts the muscle in action. If the model be directed to stand on tiptoe, both of the large muscles of the calf, the gastrocnemius and soleus, can be distinguished.
"Do you mean to insinuate that she gave herself those injections through both sleeves?" he burst out. Sartorius turned slightly away without replying. Dr. Bousquet shrugged his shoulders and removing his spectacles wiped them carefully on a purple silk handkerchief. "It would be unusual, monsieur, certainly, but not impossible. There is no accounting for the vagaries of these victims.
Captain Sartorius, of His Majesty's ship 'Slaney', delivered to me last night, at eleven o'clock, your despatch of the 14th instant, acquainting me that Bonaparte had proposed to embark on board the ship you command, and that you had acceded thereto, with the intention of proceeding to Torbay, there to wait for further orders.
His genealogy begins with those 'taylours' who, in the nineteenth year of Henry VII, 'sewyd the Kynge to be callyd Marchante Taylours' evidently earning the disfavor of their neighbors, for a 'grete grudge rose among dyuers other craftys in the cyte against them. Very soon, I fancy, these Marchante Taylours began to pride themselves on the straightness of their legs, and let subordinate craftsmen stretch their sartorius muscles.
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