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Updated: June 26, 2025
The whole world has turned topsy-turvy since any of us saw him last." "I wonder if he's still very rich," went on Jack. Janet Tosswill felt startled. "Why shouldn't he be?" she asked. "Oh, I don't know it only occurred to me that he might have lost some of this money in the same way that he lost that first fortune of his."
Then I can't forgive him for his behaviour last year never coming down to see us, I mean. It was so so ungrateful! Handsome presents don't make up for that sort of thing. I used to long to send the things back." "I don't think you're fair," began Mr. Tosswill deprecatingly. "He did write me a very nice letter, Janet, explaining that it was impossible for him to come."
That he could sometimes visualise what was coming to pass, especially if it was of an unpleasant, disturbing nature, was, so his mother considered, an undeniable fact. But sometimes the gift lay in abeyance for weeks, even for months. That had been the case, as Mrs. Tosswill had told Dr.
To her step-mother's partial eyes, Betty Tosswill, at twenty-eight, was still an extraordinarily charming and young-looking creature. Had her nose been rather less retroussé, her generous, full-lipped mouth just a little smaller, her brown hair either much darker, or really fair, as was Rosamund's, she would have been exceptionally pretty.
Jack Tosswill had got it very badly, far worse than he had suspected, and somehow he didn't believe that the medicine he had just administered had done the young man any good. Two days went by, and now Saturday had come round again. In a sense nothing had happened during those two days, and to some of the inmates of Old Place the week had seemed extremely long and dull. Mrs.
Betty Tosswill felt like a man who, having suffered intolerably from a wound which has at last healed, learns with sick apprehension that his wound is to be torn open. Although not even Janet, her one real close friend and confidant, was aware of it, Godfrey had not been the only man in Betty's life. There had been two men, out in France, who had loved her, and lost no time in telling her so.
He felt sharply disturbed and annoyed, and yet he didn't believe a word of that vulgar story! Of course it was foolish of Enid Crofton to go for a long walk alone with Jack Tosswill. That sort of thing was bound to make talk. What would the village people think if they knew how often he, Radmore, and Mrs. Crofton had dined and lunched together during the three weeks that he had been there?
"You know perfectly well you've got to have meat to drive the ghosties out of your silly head." Timmy submitted with a grunt of disappointment, and the meal proceeded. Again Radmore felt surprised and puzzled. Was it conceivable that the whole family with the exception of Mr. Tosswill, Jack and Timmy, had become so High Church that Friday was with them a meatless day?
For the first time in his self-confident, comfortable, young life Jack Tosswill was in love and full of painful, poignant, retrospective jealousy. Radmore looked away, instinctively. "I liked Colonel Crofton, I always got on with him but he was not popular. He was not at all happy when I knew him, and unhappy people are rarely popular."
Then, gradually, there emerged against the high hedge a curious-looking wooden panel protected by a slanting, neatly thatched eave, while below ran a little shelf on which there were three vases filled with fresh flowers. Timmy Tosswill struck a match and held it up, far above his little head. And Radmore saw flash out the gilded words:
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