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Updated: May 13, 2025
"Rachael's terribly decent about it," said the deep voice of old Mrs. Torrence, who was chaperoning a grandson, glad of any excuse to be at the club. "Upon my word I wouldn't be! She will breakfast upstairs many a morning because Clarence likes Carol to pour his coffee. And when that feller comes home tipsy " "Five nights a week!" supplemented Peter Pomeroy.
She was appointed guardian and trustee until legal age was attained, and as such she was absolute in her power. The large fortune was to be held in trust by this aunt, Mrs. Torrence, and the Hon. Stanley Goodland, until Grace was twenty-three years of age. The income from the investments in bonds, real estate and high-class securities was to be handled by Mrs.
You must have thought you had driven into a camp of savages!" "Not for worlds would I have missed that," she exclaimed with a merry laugh. "It was perfectly delicious! And it was all my fault. I meant to remain a day at Hartford, you know, and send a message to Mr. Torrence from there, but I found that by pushing on I could reach here yesterday.
"He would have lived longer if he had! It was probably the poetry and fairies that attracted him to Mrs. Bashford." "Yes, sir," he acquiesced with a gulp. "I suppose you're right, sir." "You should be grateful to Mrs. Bashford for not bouncing you all for the row you made last night. It could be done; in fact, Mr. Torrence has suggested that legal means could be found for getting rid of you."
Loitering along the beach on our way home, I was guiltily conscious that I was making love rather ardently to a lady who had introduced herself to me as my uncle's widow. The sensation was, on the whole, very agreeable.... "Mr. Torrence and Mr. Raynor," Antoine announced as we were leaving the dinner-table. "Mr. Raynor?" asked Alice. "Who, pray, is Mr. Raynor?"
Pleydell, there is only one case upon record, Torrence and Waldie. They were, you remember, resurrection-women, who had promised to procure a child's body for some young surgeons. Being upon honour to their employers, rather than disappoint the evening lecture of the students, they stole a live child, murdered it, and sold the body for three shillings and sixpence.
I was always doing that as a child; and if it hadn't been for my general waywardness I should never have known you, Constance. Why, I shouldn't have known you, gentlemen! It has all been so delightful!" This naïve confession amused Raynor greatly, but Torrence was seeing nothing in it but a dangerous escapade.
Farnsworth had flown, giving no hint of the length of their absence. They had slipped away and left me with a prisoner that I didn't know what to do with; with an inquiry by the American Department of State hanging over me; with Torrence to reckon with, and, in general, a muddled head that only a vast number of lucid explanations could restore to sanity.
It was the evening of the second day of school and Clint and Amy Byrd were preparing lessons at opposite sides of the green-topped table in Number 14 Torrence. "That," replied Amy, leaning back until his chair protested and viewing his room-mate under the shade of the drop-light, "is music." "Music!" Clint listened incredulously.
All Torrence knows of the subsequent proceedings is what he got in official reports of Uncle Bash's death from the consul-general at Tokyo. He was buried over there and the life-insurance companies were rather fussy about the legal proof, Torry says. Whether the widow expects to come to America ultimately or will keep moving through the Orient marrying husbands and burying them is a dark mystery.
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