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Updated: June 16, 2025
They had picked up acquaintance in an irregular way, to be sure; but Cleer hadn't happened to be close by when her father uttered those strange words to his wife, "It was he who did it; it was he who killed our boy"; nor did she notice particularly the marked abruptness of Tyrrel's departure on that unfortunate occasion.
'Tis my fault if I don't take his advice; but 'tis his fault if he does not give it. Parsons are paid for it, and ought not to be mealy-mouthed, when there is a proper opening, such as poor Tyrrel's case gave you. I challenged you. I should perhaps have been angry if you had challenged me. It makes all the difference, in the event of a duel, which is the challenger.
Falkland should be the murderer? It was but a passing thought, and yet what was the meaning of Mr. Falkland's agonies of mind? I could not accept Mr. Collins's view that Mr. Falkland was so much the slave and fool of honour that the shame of Tyrrel's savage assault alone had driven him to this melancholy and solitude, and compelled the violent outbursts of passion. II. I Learn the Secret
Perhaps, he thought, it was connected in Tyrrel's mind with some painful memory, some episode in his history he would gladly forget; though, to be sure, when one comes to think of it, at thirteen such episodes are rare and improbable. A man doesn't, as a rule, get crossed in love at that early age; nor does he generally form lasting and abiding antipathies.
Tyrrel's tyranny immediately went over to the standard of his adversary. The ladies, though treated by their rustic swain with more gentleness than the men, were occasionally exposed to his capriciousness and insolence.
Sir Edward was therefore all attention, and listened with sympathy to Tyrrel's glowing account of his friend's engineering energy and talent. When he'd finished his eulogy, however, the practical railway magnate crossed his fat hands and put in, with very common-sense dryness, "If he's so clever as all that, why doesn't he have a shot at this Wharfedale Viaduct?"
If Tyrrel had been petted as you think he ought to have been, every respectable young man and woman in the county would have married where their fancy led them; and the fancies of young people mostly lead them to the road it is ruin to take." "From what Fred Mostyn says, Tyrrel's descendants seem to have taken a very respectable road." "I've nothing to say for or against them.
A strange shade passed over Tyrrel's face. Eustace noted it instinctively. Something within seemed to move that Cornish heart. "Yes, he has his daughter still," the Squire of Penmorgan answered, with a vacant air. "But for me, that only makes things still worse than before.... How can she pardon my act? What can she ever think of me?" Le Neve turned sharply round upon him.
"Not enough," he murmured, slowly, shaking his bullet head. "It's a fortune to the young man. You must make a better offer." Walter Tyrrel's lip quivered. "Six thousand," he said, promptly. The engineer judged from the promptitude of the reply that the Cornish landlord must still be well squeezable. He shook his head gain. "No, no; not enough," he answered short. "Not enough by a long way."
Tyrrel's rural tyranny, whom I shall immediately have occasion to introduce. Mr.
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