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Helen had recovered sufficiently to be able to go to her room, he was told. Sir Allan was still sitting at the table, quietly sipping a cup of coffee. His legs were crossed, and he was smoking one of his favorite Egyptian cigarettes. "Has he gone?" he said, looking round languidly. Mr. Thurwell frowned.
We got here middle day, yesterday came over the hills from the railway in a regular old bone-shaker of a coach. My tourist get-up is quite the fig, and though I caught Mr. M eyeing me over a bit supercilious like once, he didn't recognize me if ever he did see me down at Thurwell Court, which I don't think he did. Well, directly we got here, off started Mr.
Maddison himself told me, that he had known Sir Geoffrey abroad." "Nothing more?" "I did not ask. To tell the truth, I was not interested. The idea of Mr. Maddison being connected with such a crime is simply ridiculous. I was heartily sorry that I had ever taken any steps at all." Mr. Thurwell lit a cigarette, and drew his remaining letters toward him.
"Undoubtedly," echoed his son. "I am quite satisfied, Miss Thurwell, and I thank you for your candor." "I suppose you will want me to tell you all about it," she said, with a faint shudder. "Not unless you know something fresh. I have every particular in my head that has been published." Helen looked surprised. "You read all about it, I suppose?" she asked.
In that moment Helen found courage to yield to a sudden impulse. "Please come," she said softly. He had no time to answer, for Lady Meltoun had come up to them. "Miss Thurwell," she said good-naturedly, "I don't know when I shall forgive you for monopolizing Mr. Maddison in this shameful manner.
Helen felt a woman's instinctive liking for him before she had even heard him speak. "Have you thought us long, Helen?" her father exclaimed anxiously. "We haven't seen anything of the scoundrel, but Heggs was fortunate enough to meet Sir Allan Beaumerville on the moor, and he very kindly offered to return." Sir Allan was on his knees by the body before Mr. Thurwell had finished his sentence.
Benjamin carelessly. "There's only one thing, dad, that puzzles me a bit." "It must be a rum thing, my boy, that does that," his fond parent remarked admiringly. "I never praise undeservedly, but I must say this, Benjamin, you've managed this Thurwell affair marvelously marvelously! Come, let me see what it is that is too deep for you."
"But, my dear Helen, you don't look one bit ill," she had ventured to protest, "and the Cullhamptons are such nice people. Are you sure that you won't come?" "If you please, aunt," she had begged, "I really do want to stay at home this evening;" and Lady Thurwell had not been able to withstand her niece's imploring tone, so she had gone alone. Helen spent the evening as she had planned to.
He made his confession at the head of his table, the police were clamoring outside with a warrant, and while we all sat dazed and stupefied, he fell backward dead." A cry rang through the little chamber, a sudden wail, half of relief, half of anguish. Helen fell upon her knees by the side of the sofa. Mr. Thurwell started, and moved forward. "Who is that?" he asked quickly.
She had all the appearance of a woman who was bracing herself up for some ordeal, nerving herself with all the stimulus of a firm will to triumph over her natural feelings, and follow out a difficult purpose. Mr. Thurwell scarcely recognized his own daughter.
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