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Updated: June 28, 2025
"Don't expose me, Mr. Hewitt!" he pleaded; "I beg you won't expose me! I haven't harmed a soul but myself. I've paid Lord Stanway every penny back, and I never knew the thing was a forgery till I began to clean it. I'm an old man, Mr. Hewitt, and my professional reputation has been spotless until now. I beg you won't expose me." Hewitt's voice softened.
These persons, who had met from opposite directions, were her husband, John Stanway, the earthenware manufacturer, and David Dain, the solicitor who practised at Hanbridge.
Bessie entered to clear the table. 'Hum! Well! I'll think it over again. He breathed out smoke, and departed. Rose set her lips hard. She was seen no more that evening. In the drawing-room, Stanway found Twemlow and Millicent talking in low voices on the hearthrug. Ethel lounged on the sofa. Leonora was not present, but she came in immediately. 'Let's have a game at solo, John suggested.
I will just walk round to the police-station, I think, and speak to the constables who were on duty opposite during the night. I think, Lord Stanway, I have seen all that is necessary here." "I suppose," asked Mr. Claridge, "it is too soon yet to ask if you have formed any theory in the matter?" "Well yes, it is," Hewitt answered.
Stanway rang his bell fiercely. The dictionary and the letter and Ethel's paper lay forgotten on the dusty table of the inner room. Arthur Twemlow felt that he ought to have been annoyed, but he could do no more than keep up a certain reserve of manner.
'Seen the world! he repeated. 'I've never seen anything half so charming as your home, Mrs. Stanway. Both were extremely well satisfied with the course of the conversation. Both wished that the interview might last for indefinite hours, for they had slipped, as into a socket, into the supreme topic, and into intimacy. They were happy and they knew it.
Claridge to be finally and carefully cleaned before passing into the national collection. Two nights after Mr. Claridge's premises were broken into and the cameo stolen. Such, in outline, was the generally known history of the Stanway Cameo. The circumstances of the burglary in detail were these: Mr.
Of course I understood that, so far as I then knew the case, you were the most unlikely person in the world, and that your eagerness to repay Lord Stanway might be the most creditable thing possible. But the point was worth remembering, and I remembered it.
His life was useful, happy, and honoured; and he died at Stanway, in Essex, in November 1859, at the ripe age of eighty years. Not long ago, Sir Roderick Murchison discovered at Thurso, in the far north of Scotland, a profound geologist, in the person of a baker there, named Robert Dick.
But I'm off to have a look at that mark. Inspector Plummer is in charge of the case you remember Plummer, don't you, in the Stanway Cameo case, and two or three others? Well, Plummer is an old friend of mine, and not only am I interested in this matter myself, but now that it becomes a case of murder, I must tell the police all I know, merely as a loyal citizen.
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