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Updated: May 11, 2025
"The other letter is from an enemy of mine," said John Kenneby, speaking very solemnly; "an enemy of mine, named Dockwrath, who lives at Hamworth. He's an attorney too." "Dockwrath!" said Moulder. Mr. Kantwise said nothing, but he looked round over his shoulder at Kenneby, and then shut his eyes. "That was the name of the man whom we left in the commercial room at the Bull," said Snengkeld.
"Of course she's innocent," said Snengkeld; "from the very moment the words was spoken by the foreman. If any newspaper was to say she wasn't she'd have her action." "That's all very well," said Kantwise, looking up to the ceiling with his eyes nearly shut. "But you'll see. What'll you bet me, Mr. Moulder, that Joseph Mason don't get the property?" "Gammon!" answered Moulder.
Dockwrath sat at the right hand of Kantwise, discreetly avoiding the neighbourhood of Moulder, and the others ranged themselves according to fancy at the table. "Come up along side of me, old fellow," Moulder said to Snengkeld. "It ain't the first time that you and I have smacked our lips together over the same bit of roast beef." "Nor won't, I hope, be the last by a long chalk, Mr.
"By George, it is a bird," said Snengkeld, standing over it and eyeing it minutely. "Uncommon nice it looks," said Kantwise. "All the same, I wouldn't eat none, if I were you," said Moulder, "seeing what sinners have been a basting it." And then they all sat down to dinner, Moulder having first resumed his coat. For the next three or four minutes Moulder did not speak a word.
"I shall never cut up such another bird as that, the longest day that I have to live," he said; and then he took out his large red silk handkerchief and wiped the perspiration from his brow. "Deary me, M.; don't think of that now," said the wife. "What's the use?" said Snengkeld. "Care killed a cat." "And perhaps you may," said John Kenneby, trying to comfort him; "who knows?"
I've seen him at the work before." Whereupon John grinned but said nothing. "I never see such a bird in my life, certainly." "From Norfolk, I suppose," said Snengkeld, with a great appearance of interest. "Oh, you may swear to that. It weighed twenty-four pounds, for I put it into the scales myself, and old Gibbetts let me have it for a guinea.
Moulder leading the way with stately step. It was pleasant to see them as they all followed their leader across the open passage of the gateway, in by the bar, and so up the chief staircase. Mr. Moulder walked slowly, bearing the bottle of port and his own glass, and Mr. Snengkeld and Mr.
Moulder should be down stairs looking after the roast turkey was no more than natural; but why should not Moulder himself be there to receive his guests? He soon appeared, however, coming up without his coat. "Well, Snengkeld, how are you, old fellow; many happy returns, and all that; the same to you, John. I'll tell you what, my lads; it's a prime 'un. I never saw such a bird in all my days."
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