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Updated: June 28, 2025
I have mentioned Dr Drummond's long upper lip; all sorts of racial virtues resided there, but his mouth was also wide and much frequented by a critical, humorous, philosophical smile which revealed a view of life at once kindly and trenchant. His shrewd grey eyes were encased in wrinkles, and when he laughed his hearty laugh they almost disappeared in a merry line.
It was clear that the good brother knew no more, and Malcolm could only thank him for his condescension, and follow among the herdsmen into the well-known monastery court. Here he availed himself of his avowed connection with Glenuskie, to beg to be shown good old Sir David Drummond's grave.
He occupied the gently swelling acclivity of Lundy's Lane, placing his guns in the centre, on its crest. His entire force was sixteen hundred men, that of the enemy was five thousand. The attack began at six o'clock in the evening, Drummond's troops having that hot July day marched from Queenston landing.
On that same day Her Grace went with Bothwell to Lord Drummond's, where they abode for the best part of a week, and thence they went on together to Tullibardine, the rash and open intimacy between them giving nourishment to scandal.
He thought the mode of pleading there too vehement, and too much addressed to the passions of the judges. 'This, said he, 'is not the Areopagus. At old Mr Drummond's, Sir John Dalrymple quaintly said, the two noblest animals in the world were, a Scotch highlander and an English sailor.
They pursued her in their sloop, seized and killed the crew, and stole the goods. Everyone in Scotland, except resolute Whigs, believed the vessel attacked to have been Captain Drummond's 'Speedy Return. But there was nothing definite to prove the fact; there was no corpus delicti. In fact the case was parallel to that of the Campden mystery, in which three people were hanged for killing old Mr.
Drummond's firm, a very polite gentleman, but he could give me no information, except that he obeyed instructions from a correspondent at Calcutta, one Mr. Macfarren. Whereon I wrote to Mr. Macfarren, and asked him, as I thought very pressingly, to tell me all he knew of poor Ardworth the elder.
She had found a packet of letters and a sheaf of typewritten flimsy tissue paper pages. Mrs. Douglas uttered a little cry, quickly suppressed. The letters were those in her own handwriting addressed to Lynn Munro. "Here are Drummond's reports, too," Constance added. She looked them hastily over.
They were expecting him that evening at Dr Drummond's, and there it was his intention to go. But on his way he would call for a moment to see Advena Murchison. He had something to tell her.
And how they both reveled in books and their contents on the occasions when they were alone and unhampered by the unsympathetic minds of others. "As you see, Dorian," said Uncle Zed on one such Sunday evening, "my collection of books is not large, but they are such that I can read and read again." "Where is your 'Drummond's Natural Law'?" asked Dorian. Uncle Zed looked about.
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