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Updated: June 2, 2025
Turnbull's. To Venia he related strange adventures by sea and land, and on subjects of which he was sure the farmer knew nothing he was a perfect mine of information. He began to talk in low tones to Venia, and the heart of Mr. Blundell sank within him as he noted her interest. Their voices fell to a gentle murmur, and the sergeant's sleek, well-brushed head bent closer to that of his listener.
The debate fashioned itself after this speech of Mr. Turnbull's, and turned again very much upon the ballot, although it had been thought that the late debate had settled that question. One or two of Mr.
By this time the waves were well up Turnbull's thigh, and what was worse, they were beginning to roll and break heavily around them.
"He give it to me when when he died." "What was his name?" asked Dick. "His name?" reiterated Turnbull, "what do his name matter? And anyhow I've forgot it." At this moment Nicholls and Simpson made their appearance upon the scene, much to Turnbull's amazement, and turning to them Leslie said "Here is your prisoner, lads. Have you your lashings ready?
Her idol all of silver hue was blackened with the breath of sulphur, and the world was overspread with the darkness which radiated from it. In this mood she went to the week-evening service at Mr Turnbull's chapel. There she sat listless, looking for no help, and caring for none of the hymns or prayers. At length Mr Turnbull began to read the story of the Prodigal Son.
I was at Mr Turnbull's early the next morning, and found him with the newspapers before him. "I expected this, Jacob," said he; "read that advertisement."
"Ye micht hae gotten a hantel oot o' that." "Ay. But ye see, he said the Lord was merciful to ither fowk whan he rendert to the wicked the punishment due to them. And I cudna richtly feel i' my hert that I cud praise the Lord for that mercy." "I dinna wonner, my bairn." "But eh! Mr Cupples, Mr Turnbull's no like that aye. He's bonnie upo' the Gospel news. I wiss ye wad gang and hear him the nicht.
Turnbull was the gentleman selected. Dr. Turnbull was the doctor who, it will be remembered, lived in the square near the church. There was another doctor in Eastthorpe, Mr. Butcher, of whom we have heard, but Dr. Turnbull's reputation as a doctor was far higher than Mr. Butcher's. What Eastthorpe thought of Dr. Turnbull as a man is another matter. Mr.
Kent judged from the use of his initials that Clymer was stirred out of his ordinary calm, nothing else explained his failure to sign his full name, and he wondered what confidences McIntyre had made to the bank president. Tossing down the note, Kent lighted his pipe, tilted back in his swivel chair, and reviewed the facts which implicated Rochester in Jimmie Turnbull's murder.
We'll go right ahead with those orders now, then, and we can have a chat about the matter again after business hours, if you don't mind. It's hard to reconcile oneself to taking this so easily, but I suppose it's the only thing to do. I'll get out in the warehouse now. You had better send that note round to Turnbull's by express messenger, and ring up Yardley's about the American contracts." Mr.
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