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Nancy caught a glimpse of his meaning, and set herself doggedly to watch until the person who had passed the notes through the chimney should come for them. "He will miss them," said she, "you mark my words." Thus Helen, though reduced to a standstill herself, had set an inquiry on foot which was alive and ramifying. In the course of a few days she received a visit from Mrs. Undercliff.
Why, they acted upon it. Those reports are not worth a straw. What journals were they cut out of?" "I don't know," said Helen. "Is there nothing on the upper margin to show?" "No." "What, not on either of them?" "No." "Show them me, please. This is a respectable paper, too, the Daily News." "Oh, Mr. Undercliff, how can you know that?"
Was it the balmy southern air that tempered the vehemence of these wanderers as they made their way across the island, and getting into a carriage at Ventnor, proceeded to drive along the Undercliff? There was a great quiet prevailing along these southern shores.
Robert had told her to see his counsel, his solicitor, his father, and Mr. Undercliff, an expert, and to sift the whole matter. Not knowing exactly where to begin, she thought she would, after all, wait a day or two to give Arthur time to recover himself, and decide calmly whether he would co-operate with her or not.
Then after a pause she said "I want you to do your very best for this young lady." "I always do," said the artist. "But how can I judge without materials? And she brings me none." Mrs. Undercliff turned to Helen, and said: "Have you brought him nothing at all, no handwritings in your bag?" Then Helen sighed again. "I have no handwriting except Mr.
Then came a long spell of hot weather, such heat as Denasia had never dreamed of. Roland, who had been in Southern Europe, could endure it better; as for Denasia, she lay prostrate with but one idea in her heart the cool coverts of the Cornish undercliff and the trinkling springs where the blue-bells and the forget-me-nots grew so thickly.
Undercliff was scrutinizing them with great interest, so she thought she would leave them with him; but, on looking more closely, she found that he was examining, not the reports, but the advertisements and miscellanea on the reverse side. She waited out of politeness, but she colored and bit her lip. She could not help feeling hurt and indignant.
He had every excuse, for she was lithe, and beautiful, and a joyous companion; besides being, as the lady's maid justly remarked, a perfect lady. One day, after Dolly had been a fortnight at Upcombe, the Compsons gave a picnic in the wild Combe undercliff.
Undercliff, and devoured his countenance while he inspected it keenly and compared it with the forged note. The comparison was long and careful, but unsatisfactory. Mr. Undercliff could not conscientiously say whether Hand had written the forged note or not. There were pros and cons. "We are in deeper water than I thought," said he. "The comparison must be enlarged.
Right beneath them the latter a broad gully of the hills went plunging precipitously, all rolled with leaf and flower, to the undercliff of soft blue lias and the very roof ridges of King's Cobb, whose walls and chimneys, now snowed with light, fretted a scallop of the striding bay that swept the land here like a scythe.
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