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Richard Beerley to Cromwell: Suppression of the Monasteries, p. 132. These rules must be remembered. The impossibility of enforcing obedience to them was the cause of the ultimate resolution to break up the system. At one time fairs and markets were held in churchyards. Stat. Wynton., 13 Ed. I. cap. 6.
"Don't put it that way, because the whole credit of the relief expedition is due to Stampa. Say, Miss Wynton, may I square my small services by asking a favor?" "Oh, yes, indeed." "Well, then, if it lies in your power, keep Stampa and Bower apart. In any event, don't intervene in their quarrel." "So you are quite serious in your belief that there is a quarrel?"
I'm sort of interested in a young lady, Miss Helen Wynton by name. She lives in Warburton Gardens, and does work for you occasionally.
Is she not my good angel? Has she not drawn me back from the gate of hell? Risk her life! Are people saying that because a worm-eaten wheel went to pieces against a stone?" "What on earth is he talking about?" demanded Spencer. "Has he been pestering Miss Wynton this morning with some story of his present difficulties?" The manager knew Stampa's character. He put the words in kindlier phrase.
It was not quite so easy to explain matters in the curt language of the wire, he found, and it savored of absurdity to amaze the beer-drinking Scot with a long message. So he compromised between desire and expediency by a letter. "DEAR MR. MACKENZIE," he wrote, "life is not rapid at this terminus. It might take on some new features if I had the privilege of saying 'How de do' to Miss Wynton.
Why, I actually heard a woman whose conduct is not usually governed by what I hold to be good taste sneer at Miss Wynton this evening. 'The murder is out now, she said. 'Bower's presence explains everything. Yet I am able to state that Miss Wynton was quite unprepared for his arrival.
The poor worn man looked as if such a holiday would have done him a world of good. But the certain fact remained that there was no room for error. It was she, Helen Wynton, and none other, for whom the gods had contrived this miracle. If it had been possible, she would have crossed busy Cockspur-st. with a hop, skip, and a jump in order to gain the sleeping car company's premises.
Seldom, if ever, has a more strangely assorted party met at dinner than that which gathered in the Hotel Kursaal under the social wing of Mrs. de la Vere. Her husband, while being coached in essentials, was the first to discover its incongruities. "Where Miss Wynton is concerned, you are warned off," his wife told him dryly. "You must console yourself with Mrs. Badminton-Smythe.
Helen was wrestling with her refractory tresses for the coiffure that suits glaciers and Tam o'Shanters is not permissible in evening dress when a servant brought her a note. "DEAR MISS WYNTON," it ran, "If you are able to come down to dinner, why not dine with me? Sincerely, She blushed and laughed a little.
Bower's attitude in not pressing his company on Miss Wynton at this initial stage of the journey revealed a subtlety that demanded equal restraint on Spencer's part. Helen herself was so far from suspecting the truth that Bower would be compelled to keep up the pretense of a casual rencontre. Nevertheless, Spencer's chivalric nature was stirred to the depths.
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