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Updated: June 1, 2025
When she came to the words: "Either she is not Yorke-Bannerman's daughter; or else, Yorke-Bannerman was not a poisoner, and someone else was I might put a name to him," she rose to her feet with a great rush of long-suppressed feeling, and clasped me passionately. "My Hubert!" she cried, "I read you aright. I knew it! I was sure of you!"
This uncle had lately made a will in Yorke-Bannerman's favour; but he was a cantankerous old chap naval, you know autocratic crusty given to changing his mind with each change of the wind, and easily offended by his relations the sort of cheerful old party who makes a new will once every month, disinheriting the nephew he last dined with.
At the words, she trembled violently all over once more, but with an effort restrained herself. Their looks met in a searching glance. Hilda's air was proud and fearless: in Sebastian's, I fancied I detected, after a second, just a tinge of wavering. "You remember Yorke-Bannerman's case," he went on. "He committed a murder " "Let ME take the basin!"
Sebastian," I said, confronting him, "let us be quite clear with one another. I have found you out. I know how you tried to poison that lady. To poison her with bacilli which I detected. I cannot trust your word; I cannot trust your inferences. Either she is not Yorke-Bannerman's daughter at all, or else... Yorke-Bannerman was NOT a murderer...." I watched his face closely.
I trusted him, and made a clean breast of it. "I believe," I answered, with an impressive little pause, "I want to marry Yorke-Bannerman's daughter." He gave a quick start. "What, Maisie?" he exclaimed. I shook my head. "No, no; that is not the name," I replied. He hesitated a moment. "But there IS no other," he hazarded cautiously at last. "I knew the family." "I am not sure of it," I went on.
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