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"I suppose you wouldn't care to give me your names as a guarantee?" "Assuredly," Mr. Torrington replied. "It was a mere oversight that we have hitherto neglected to do so." And in the courtliest manner he introduced the company by name. "The devil," said Richard, "I knew who you were all right, but I didn't imagine you'd tell me. That that makes a difference." He hesitated, then sat down abruptly.
"Uncle Lucius told me it was Lord Torrington, and I know he's the head of the War Office because my father's the under-secretary." "That's all right, then. I was just thinking that it would be perfectly awful if we captured the spies and it turned out that he wasn't the man who was after them." "He may not be after them," said Frank. "It doesn't seem to me a bit likely that he is.
He puts me in mind of Italian paintings. One would guess, without being told, that there was foreign blood in his veins." "Is there?" said Gwendolen. "Mrs. Torrington says so. I asked particularly who he was, and she told me that his mother was some foreigner of high rank." "His mother?" said Gwendolen, rather sharply. "Then who was his father?"
To keep the sea against the French after this disastrous and ignominious action was impossible. The Dutch ships which had come out of the fight were in lamentable condition. Torrington ordered some of them to be destroyed: the rest he took in tow: he then fled along the coast of Kent, and sought a refuge in the Thames.
And then the deed was handed up into the jury-box, and the twelve jurymen all examined it. The statement made by this Mr. Torrington was very simple. It had become his business to know the circumstances of the late partnership between Mason and Martock, and these circumstances he explained. Then Sir Richard handed him over to be cross-examined.
"Good Heavens alive! why What's that?" There was a murmur of voices in the hall, the room door was thrown open, and Isabel Irish came in breathlessly. She threw a quick glance round the circle of faces as though seeking someone. "Where is he? Where's Tony? It's after eleven half past Why isn't he here?" Mr. Torrington rose and offered a chair, which she refused with a gesture.
When he totted it all up together he found that he was affluent. He could reckon on a round four hundred all told. In Torrington Square, by the practice of a little ingenious economy, he could easily live on a hundred and twenty-five; so that by the end of the first year he should have saved the considerable sum of two hundred and seventy-five pounds.
"She had a boy to row her," said Frank. "She'd hired the boat. She said she came from the British Museum and was collecting sponges." "Sponges!" said Sir Lucius. "How could she collect sponges here, and what does the British Museum want sponges for?" "They weren't exactly sponges," said Frank, "they were zoophytes." "It's just possible," said Lord Torrington, "that she might Sponges, you say?
Lord Torrington stepped carefully on board and settled himself crouched into a position undignified for a member of the Cabinet, on the side of the centreboard case recommended by Peter Walsh. "Got your sandwiches all right?" said Sir Lucius, "and the flask? Good. Then off you go. Now, Peter, Inishbawn first and after that wherever you're told to go. If you get wet, Torrington, don't blame me.
"It's a rotten night, sir," he said, "and I'm short of petrol. Make it a double fare." "Really," declared the girl with that exaggerated drawling accent, "I can manage quite well." "Please don't argue," said Paul, smiling and assisting her into the cab. "Tell me where you want to go." She gave an address near Torrington Square and Paul got in beside her.
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