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Updated: June 12, 2025
"There is nothing to explain save that to-night he seemed to regard my movements with suspicion." "Ah! my dear, your fears are utterly groundless," he laughed. "What can the fellow possibly know? He is assured that I am dead, for he signed my certificate and followed me to my grave at Woking. A man who attends his friend's funeral has no suspicion that the dead is still living, depend upon it.
And, as I say, we employed Stobb and Leykin, men of great experience, to just find out a little about Miss Pett. Of course, Miss Pett herself had given us something to go on. She had told you some particulars of her career. She had been housekeeper to a Major Stilman, at Kandahar Cottage, Woking. She had occupied posts at two London hotels.
He showed me the telegram, on which were the words to be said. "'E must have left 'is bottle in the train, an' took another by mistake. 'E's been wirin' from Woking awful, an', now I come to think of, it, I'm nearly sure I put a bottle of medicine off at Andover." "Then the man that took the poison isn't in the train?" "Lord, no, sir. No one didn't take poison that way.
In accordance with his wish his body was cremated, and a week later Alfred and I returned to Woking and buried his ashes under the shrubs in the garden of the crematorium, with nothing to mark the spot. The Humour of Homer The first of the two great poems commonly ascribed to Homer is called the Iliad a title which we may be sure was not given it by the author.
The fifth cylinder must have fallen right into the midst of the house we had first visited. The building had vanished, completely smashed, pulverised, and dispersed by the blow. The cylinder lay now far beneath the original foundations deep in a hole, already vastly larger than the pit I had looked into at Woking.
"I say!" said Ogilvy; "help keep these idiots back. We don't know what's in the confounded thing, you know!" I saw a young man, a shop assistant in Woking I believe he was, standing on the cylinder and trying to scramble out of the hole again. The crowd had pushed him in. The end of the cylinder was being screwed out from within. Nearly two feet of shining screw projected.
We were far beyond the range of the Heat-Ray there, and had it not been for the silent desertion of some of the houses, the stirring movement of packing in others, and the knot of soldiers standing on the bridge over the railway and staring down the line towards Woking, the day would have seemed very like any other Sunday.
In the railway carriage I turned over some letters and papers which I found in my pockets, not with deliberate intention, but to while away the time. One scrap startled me. It was the sheet on which Brande had written the Woking address, and on reading it over once more, a thought occurred to me which I acted on as soon as possible. I could go to Woking and find out something about the man Delany.
'Just that, she answered. 'One's very soul the soul that one lives by stopped. So! She drove her thumb deep into the arm-rest. 'And now, she whined to him, 'now that we've stirred each other up this way, mightn't we have just one? 'No, said Conroy, shaking. 'Let's hold on. We're past' he peered out of the black windows 'Woking. There's the Necropolis. How long till dawn?
Beecher, the young bride of the banker, that in a place like Woking it was very hard to get any mental friction, or to escape from the same eternal grooves of thought and conversation. The same idea, it seemed, had occurred to Mrs. Beecher, fortified by a remark from the Lady's Journal that an internal intellectual life was the surest method by which a woman could preserve her youth.
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