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Updated: May 21, 2025
In a short time Redwald appeared on the roof, above the gateway. "What dost thou require, Sir Monk?" said he; "thy words sound strange in my ears." "I am come, false traitor," said Father Swithin, waxing wroth, "to demand the person of Elfric of Aescendune, whom thou detainest contrary to God's law and the king's."
"Very likely I shall have a nap. Bring up hot water at half-past six and shave me before dinner." The valet moved towards the door. Swithin raised himself. "What did Mr. James say to you?" "He said you ought to have another doctor; two doctors, he said, better than one. He said, also, he would look in again on his way 'home." Swithin grunted, "Umph! What else did he say?"
He quickly added: "I get a pain there, too." Swithin reddened, a resemblance to a turkey-cock coming upon his old face. "Exercise!" he said. "I take plenty: I never use the lift at the Club." "I didn't know," James hurried out. "I know nothing about anybody; nobody tells me anything...." Swithin fixed him with a stare: "What do you do for a pain there?" James brightened. "I take a compound...."
He wiped a glass elaborately, filled it, and bore it scrupulously to the bedside. Suddenly twirling his moustaches, he wrung his hands, and burst out: "It is poison." Swithin grinned faintly. "You foreign fool!" he said. "Get out!" The valet vanished. 'He forgot himself! thought Swithin. Slowly he raised the glass, slowly put it back, and sank gasping on his pillows.
'I cannot say, she answered. 'Something tells me no. It was almost impossible that she could know anything of the deterrent force exercised on Swithin by his dead uncle that morning. Yet her manner tallied so curiously well with such knowledge that he was struck by it, and remained silent. 'You have a black tie, she continued, looking at him. 'Yes, replied Swithin.
Her swain moved a stick with a ragged bit of string dangling from the end, reproducing with strange fidelity the circular flourish of Swithin's whip, and rolled his head at his lady with a leer that had a weird likeness to Swithin's primeval stare. Though for a time unconscious of the lowly ruffian's presence, Swithin presently took it into his head that he was being guyed.
Slowly he descended. "Where have they gone?" asked Swithin painfully. "A pound for every English word you speak. A pound!" and he made an O with his fingers. The corners of the shoemaker's lips curled. "Geld! Mf! Eilen Sie, nur!" But in Swithin a sullen anger had begun to burn. "If you don't tell me," he said, "it'll be the worse for you." "Sind ein komischer Kerl!" remarked the shoemaker.
"My name," said the Hungarian, "is Boleskey. You are my friend." His English was good. 'Bulsh-kai-ee, Burlsh-kai-ee, thought Swithin; 'what a devil of a name! "Mine," he said sulkily, "is Forsyte." The Hungarian repeated it. "You've had a nasty jab on the cheek," said Swithin; the sight of the matted beard was making him feel sick.
After Swithin had related at Timothy's the full story of his memorable drive, the same, with the least suspicion of curiosity, the merest touch of malice, and a real desire to do good, was passed on to June. "And what a dreadful thing to say, my dear!" ended Aunt Juley; "that about not going home. What did she mean?" It was a strange recital for the girl.
Bosinney was building Soames a house; whether young Roger's wife was really expecting; how the operation on Archie had succeeded; and what Swithin had done about that empty house in Wigmore Street, where the tenant had lost all his money and treated him so badly; above all, about Soames; was Irene still still asking for a separate room?
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