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Updated: June 14, 2025
Brown," she said softly. He flashed a sudden glance at her from his dark eyes, which brought the color streaming into her cheeks. Fortunately, twilight was commencing to fall, and she was standing a little back in the shadow of the plantation. "If Miss Thurwell wishes it," he said, in a tone of a man who offers himself to lead a forlorn hope, "it is settled. I will come."
And so, though it is not usually the case, it was he who appeared the least disturbed, and he it was who broke that strange silence which had lasted several moments after she had come to a standstill before him. "You do not mind speaking to me, Miss Thurwell?" "No; I do not mind," she answered in a low, hesitating tone.
"We gathered from your letter, Miss Thurwell, that you desired to consult us concerning the murder of Sir Geoffrey Kynaston." Helen was surprised into assenting, and before she could qualify her words, Mr. Benjamin had taken the case in hand. "Exactly.
Thurwell turned round and made an excellent breakfast, after which he and his daughter spent the day very much in the same manner as any other English country gentleman and young lady are in the habit of doing.
I will arrange about the defence, and will try and see you myself before the trial." "You need send no lawyer to me," he answered. "I shall defend myself." Mr. Thurwell said no more. He was a little dazed by those letters, but he was not going to allow himself to be influenced by them, for his daughter's sake, as well as his own.
Thurwell, sotto voce, from the other side of the table. "Queer thing, but he seems to remind me of some one to-night," Lord Lathon remarked to the Home Secretary, who was on the other side. "Can't remember who it is, though. It's some fellow who's in a devil of a scrape, I know. Who the mischief is it?" "You mean Maddison, don't you?" Sir Philip Roden answered. "Plenty of people have noticed that.
"Still, from what I hear, we shall certainly have to send it for trial." "I am afraid you will," Mr. Thurwell answered. "I shall not sit myself; I am prejudiced." "In his favor or the reverse?" his lordship inquired. "In his favor, decidedly," Mr. Thurwell answered, passing out behind the others, and taking a seat in the body of the room. The general impatience was doomed to be aggravated.
Thurwell was proud of his chef were no secret to him, and he knew all about the vintages of the wines he was drinking. In the whole course of his experience, Mr. Thurwell had never entertained such a guest as this, and it was a sore trial to his good manners to abstain from any astonished comment on the lonely life his tenant had been lately leading.
Thurwell seldom frowned at his daughter, of whom he was secretly a little afraid, but he did so now. He was seriously angry. "It was not a matter for you to have concerned yourself in at all," he said, rising from his seat. "At least, I should have been consulted." "It was all very foolish, I know," she admitted humbly. "It was worse than foolish; it was wrong and undutiful," he declared.
It was the face of a poet, of a dreamer, a visionary perhaps but a criminal! the thing seemed impossible. "This is very good of you, Mr. Thurwell," he said in a low but clear tone. "I scarcely expected that I should be permitted to see visitors." Mr. Thurwell grasped his hand, and held it for a moment without speaking.
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