Excuse me a minute, will you? She put a lot of force into the expression. He wanted me to go into the trade - marry and settle down. All that sort of thing.

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Excuse me a minute, will you? She put a lot of force into the expression. He wanted me to go into the trade - marry and settle down. All that sort of thing.

Nobody in particular - just the principle of the thing. But I wanted to be an artist. You know, until yesterday I never saw a girl I felt I could marry. And then I saw her - the one and only Her! And he drew a little nearer. She and her James! When you have just purchased a Baby Austin, fourth hand, for the sum of twenty pounds, and are taking it out for the second time only, your whole attention is necessarily focused on the difficult task of using both hands and feet as the emergencies of the moment dictate.

Palgrove was saved from having to respond as at that moment he was roundly and soundly cursed by the driver of a motor omnibus. After all, here we are, in a real car, on Sunday afternoon going out of town the same as everybody else.

Emboldened by feminine appreciation, Mr. Palgrove attempted a dash across Hammersmith Broadway, and was severely spoken to by a policeman. Five pounds and costs. No favour. It makes me mad to think of these swells who can walk into a place and buy a couple of Rolls-Royces without turning a hair. And me with a string of Woolworth pearls. Edward was able once more to give full attention to his driving. They managed to get through Richmond without mishap.

He now took the line of least resistance, following blindly behind any car in front whenever a choice of thoroughfares presented itself. In this way he presently found himself following a shady country lane which many an experienced motorist would have given his soul to find. He was an unprepossessing-looking individual with a leer. Ripe fruit, fresh-picked.

Cherries, too. Genuine English. Have a basket of cherries, lady? Edward sighed and paid over two shillings. His mind was obsessed by calculation. That was the worst of taking girls out! They always wanted everything they saw. Another half-mile brought them to an ideal spot by the banks of a stream. The Austin was left by the side of the road and Edward and Dorothy sat affectionately upon the river bank and munched cherries. A Sunday paper lay unheeded at their feet.

Dorothy glanced over the headlines. Extraordinary Story. Twenty-eight People Drowned Last Week. Reported Death of Airman. Startling Jewel Robbery. Oh, Ted! Fifty thousand pounds. Just fancy! On arrival, the packet was found to contain a few pebbles and the jewels were missing. I wonder what it would feel like to have a thing like that hanging round your neck.

Dorothy tossed her head. I might go on the stage. Dorothy opened her mouth to reply, checked herself, and murmured, "Pass me the cherries. They both stared at it in amazement. Dorothy nodded. Rubies set in platinum. Platinum is that sort of dull silvery stuff - like this. I wonder how many of them there are? The same number as the paper said. But you know, Ted, that was a very odd-looking man - the man with the fruit - a nasty-looking man.

What would he want to hand us over fifty thousand pounds for? Supposing the police get after us. We found it in the basket. She had clasped the necklace round her neck and was judging the effect in a small mirror taken from her handbag. They must be imitation. Look here, Dorothy, are you listening to what I say, or are you not? She turned to him, one hand on the rubies round her neck. Edward stared at her, his grievance forgotten. He had never seen Dorothy quite like this.

There was a triumph about her, a kind of regal beauty that was completely new to him. The belief that she had jewels round her neck worth fifty thousand pounds had made of Dorothy Pratt a new woman.

She looked insolently serene a kind of Cleopatra and Semiramis and Zenobia rolled into one. Dorothy laughed, and her laugh, too, was entirely different. We must take them to a police station or something. Edward stared at her. Dorothy showed impatience. Any jeweller would want to know where I got the blooming thing. She was serene and unyielding. Then Dorothy rose to her feet. You need have nothing to do with it.

We came by it honest - bought it for two shillings. He felt worked up, exalted, the very devil of a fellow! In this mood, he started the Austin. They were both too excited to remember tea. They drove back to London in silence. By a miracle, they reached home without mishap.

Fifty thousand pounds! He had to set about finding a fence - and how to do it he had not the remotest idea! His work at the office was slovenly and brought down upon him two sharp rebukes before lunch.

How did one find a "fence"? Whitechapel, he fancied, was the correct neighbourhood - or was it Stepney? On his return to the office a call came though for him on the telephone. I must have been mad yesterday - I really must. I can slip out and meet you. Wait for me round the corner. It was Bloomsbury they wanted. Safely ensconced in the tube, having dexterously managed to gain a seat, he eagerly perused the printed sheet.

He found what he sought easily enough. A suppressed whistle escaped him. He read it through and let the paper slip to the floor unheeded. A breathless Dorothy, looking pale but pretty, came hurrying along to join him. And now read this! Baskets of fruit were sold yesterday and will be on sale every Sunday. Out of every fifty baskets, one will contain an imitation necklace in different coloured stones.


The Listerdale Mystery And Eleven Other Stories

Edit Mrs St. Vincent is a genteel lady living in reduced circumstances with her son and daughter, Rupert and Barbara. They now live in rooms in a boarding house, which has seen better times and, due to these surroundings, are unable to entertain people of similar class and upbringing. Rupert has just started a job in the city with excellent prospects but at this moment in time, only a small income. Barbara had enjoyed a trip to Egypt the previous winter with, and paid for by, her richer cousin where she met a young man called Jim Masterson who is interested in courting her but who would be put off if he saw their circumstances. Looking through the Morning Post, Mrs St.


The Listerdale Mystery


IEC 60068-2-38 PDF




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