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Updated: June 10, 2025
Lambert could not believe that it was all her scheme, but it seemed incredible that a man as shrewdly dishonest as Kerr would entertain a plan that promised so little outlook of success. They must have believed over at Kerr's that they had him pretty well on the line.
I can understand this very well, having often found the necessity of doing two things at once. She is a very pretty, dark woman too, and has been compared to Rebecca, daughter of the Jew, Isaac of York. Detained in the Court till half-past two bothering about Lady Essex Kerr's will without coming to a conclusion. I then got home too late to do anything, as I must prepare to go to Dalmahoy. Mr.
Harry nodded. Flora felt Kerr's eyes upon her, but she could not look at him. "And we see the thing is at a deadlock, don't we? Well, now," the judge went on triumphantly, "we know if any one person had the whole ring it would be turned in by this time. That is the weak spot in the reward policy. They didn't reckon on the thing's being split." "Split? No, really, do you think that possible?"
Yet she permitted herself a moment of imagining what might have been if her answers had been reversed. But no, she dared not meet Kerr's impetuous attacks yet. First she must get at Harry. And how was that to be managed if he insisted on surrounding himself with "a jolly little party?" She found a moment that evening in which to ask him to walk out to the Presidio with her the next morning.
A telegraph pole stood beside the platform some sixty or seventy feet from the depot, the wires slanting down from it into the building's gable end. To this Lambert marched his prisoner, the eyes of the town on him. He freed one of Kerr's hands, passed his arms round the pole so he stood embracing it, and locked him there.
The change had not been altogether pleasant for her, but she had submitted to it cheerfully, and it had done her good. She had become helpful and womanly in a way that would have delighted old Mrs Kerr's heart to see. To her mother and her brothers she was "one of the children" still, but strangers were beginning to look upon her as a grown-up young lady, a good many years older than David or Jem.
He laid out a little beat up and down the platform at Kerr's back, rolled a cigarette, settled down to wait for the sheriff, the train, the rush of Kerr's friends, or whatever the day might have in store. Slowly, thoughtfully, he paced that beat of a rod behind his surly prisoner's back, watching the town, watching the road leading into it.
The Corporation was still hardly beyond infancy, and Kerr's natural legal acuteness was of great service at his new post, where reigned he practically master, and was an authority far outside his official sphere, and even in legislative difficulties of the young Parliament, for we are now entering into Victorian life, and the importance that was fast being developed with the gold.
According to Miss Blandy's Own Account, it was not until their second meeting at Lord Mark Kerr's in the summer of 1747 that the patrician but unattractive Cranstoun declared his passion. But here, as we shall presently see, the fair authoress rather antedates the fact.
People stood in the doors, but none approached him to make inquiry, no voice was lifted in pitch that reached him where he stood. If anybody else in town besides the agent knew of the contemplated rescue, he kept it selfishly to himself. Lambert did not see any of Kerr's men about.
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