Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 31, 2025
The door was opened by the floor waiter, who held it while a thin, dark man, dressed in civilian clothes of most correct cut, passed in. Hobson gripped him at once by the hand. "Chief Downs," he said, "this is my friend Mr. Crawshay, who is connected with the English Embassy over here. You can shake hands with him later.
"He has no hold upon me at all," she replied indignantly. "Since you are so persistent, I will tell you the truth. I once saw him do a splendid thing, a deed which saved me from great unhappiness." "There we have it then at last!" Crawshay exclaimed eagerly. "You are under obligations to him." "I certainly am," she acknowledged.
"I shall be delighted," Jocelyn accepted. "A drink with a friend, and a little mutual toast, is always a pleasure." Crawshay paused. They were standing outside the entrance to the captain's cabin. "I quite agree with you," he said. "Exercise your ingenuity, Mr. Jocelyn Thew, and think out a toast that we can both drink sincerely. You will excuse me?
"No offence, Doctor no offence," Crawshay protested across the table. "Mine is just the natural interest in a fellow sufferer of a man who has known most of the ailments to which we weak humans are subject." "I suppose, as we have the pleasure of your company this evening," the captain intervened, "Miss Beverley will be an absentee?"
He seemed to be making his way to the bar, but at the sight of them he paused and strolled across the room towards them. "Getting your land legs, Mr. Crawshay?" he enquired. "Pretty well, thank you. You finished your business in Liverpool quickly, I see." "More urgent business brought me to London.
"If our reports are trustworthy, we might be able to squeeze out one more knot than she can do," was the doubtful reply, "but, you see, she'll follow us out of this last bank of fog practically within rifle range. I've altered my course three or four times so as to get a start, but she hangs on like grim death. That's what makes me so sure that it's the Blucher." "Want my advice?" Crawshay asked.
"This is a damned unpleasant affair," he said. "It is," was the grim reply. "You know it's the Blucher?" "No doubt about that." "What on earth are we up to?" Crawshay continued, in a dissatisfied tone. "We haven't even replied to her signals." "It appears to me," Jocelyn Thew pronounced irritably, "that we are going to try and get away. I never heard of such lunacy.
"It's a jolly good send-off for me." Jocelyn Thew made his farewells and strolled down one of the narrow avenues which led to the exit. About half-way down, he came suddenly face to face with Nora and Crawshay. They all three stood together, talking, for a few moments. Suddenly Crawshay, who appeared to see some one in the crowd, turned away.
"Suspected persons only." "Exactly who are they?" "First and foremost, Mr. Jocelyn Thew." "And afterwards?" Crawshay hesitated. "Mr. Phillips and his entourage." "What, the man who is supposed to be dying?" "I will admit," Crawshay said, "that this is more or less guesswork, but I suspect every one with whom Jocelyn speaks."
"You've been pretty sorry for yourself ever since," he observed. "I must confess that I made up my mind to the heroic deed in a rash moment," Crawshay acknowledged. "I am a person of strong and unconquerable impulses.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking