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The Hermit of Far End

Chapter 6 THE SKELETON IN SELWYN’S CUPBOARD

Word Count: 2519    |    Released on: 29/11/2017

essing the remnants of what must at one time have been an ineffective kind of prettiness. She was a determinedly chronic i

e sufferer rarely has it. "It is, of course, a great deprivation to me, and I don't think either Dick"-with an in

iately on his return from no matter how long or how

e," he said patiently. "You must

e patients are much more interesting to visit than

d-butter, anyway,"

r, Miss Tennant," she said sneeringly. "But money means little enough to any one with my

at Mrs. Selwyn herself, elegantly clad in a rest-gown of rich silk, she could better understand the poverty-stricken appearance of the rest of the ho

tire thoughts were centred about her own bodily comfort, and whom Patrick Lovell, with his lucid recognition o

er knee-"I see the World's Store have just brought out a new kind of adjustable reading-ta

s face

ed nervously. "These mechanical contr

sn't. It's only

nie," he said gravely. "Couldn't you manage

he price-list pettis

ith what I have? Can't I make do with this, that, and the other?' I beli

rept into Se

oice. "It's simply that I can't afford these things. I give you everythi

comfort I ask for! Instead of that, you've got half the poor of Monkshaven on your hands-and if you think they can't afford to pay, you simply don't send in a bill. Oh, I know!"-sitting up excitedly in her chair,

ried ineffectually to stem

you see, I know their name for you, these slum patients of yours!-but it's D

broke in sternly. "Rememb

a third person, even that of an absolute stranger, cou

he better! She won't be here long without seeing how I'm treated"-her voice rising hys

, and Sara retreated hastily from the roo

m when the front door opened and closed with a

pretty Jane! I've brought

oise, Miss M

Jane, and then the door of the room was flung open, and Molly Selwyn sailed in and overwhelmed Sara with apologies for her reception, or rather, for the lack of it. She was quit

lating walk, rather reminding one of a stray goddess. Always untidy with hooks lacking at important junctures, and the trimmings of her hats usually pinned on with

dingness of disposition-a tendency to take always the line of least resistance-but it was a charming,

nt of shrimps and bread-and-butter, and when Sara uttered a mild protest, she only laughed and declared that it was a wholesome and

humb-nail portraits of her future neighbours-the people

oses, and swears when ordinary language fails her-all of which things, of course, are anathema to the select circles of Monkshaven. But then she's a millionaire's widow, so instead of giving her the cold shoulder, every one gushes round her and declares 'Mr

cks?" asked Sara, smil

housekeeps for him. 'The Lavender Lady,' I always call her, because she's one of those delightful old-fashioned people who remi

ght seem to fit her recent fellow-traveller, but none came, and a

o would be like that. There was no lack of breeding about him. He was just deliberately snubby-as though

nodded

, grim-looking individual, with the kind of eyes that

ibes them," admitted

Hermit of Far End

mit of F

imself at a house built almost on the edge of Mon

s name is Trent. The cabman presented me with that inform

sounds like a railway collision, doesn't i

as odd how definite an interest her bri

ightedly-"rather as if I wasn't there!

ough he had succeeded?"

ked at he

er speaks to, I think, without compulsion-that I was 'the Deli

ing person," commen

rudge against the world in general, but woman in part

room, his grave face clearing a littl

, smiling. "Have you made your peace with Mi

orted Molly with lazy impudence, pulling his head

n gri

. "And who is it that'

mit of F

so you have been discu

down with him from Oldhampton. He

. He doesn't

an appropriate habitation for h

elwyn suggested that his daughter

," he said. "And try and be very nice to

to Sara, a curious blending of prou

at you should have seen our worst side so soon af

in Sara hastily. "I'm so sorry I happened to

at her w

ng out our particular skeleton in the cupboard. My wife's state of health-or, rather, what she believes to be her state of health-is a

d to find relief in pouring out the p

ly leads the life of a confirmed invalid. It has grown upon her gradually, this absorp

e man who tended them, came instinctively from her lips. It seemed, somehow, to fit itself to the big, k

ed to accentuate the neglected appearance of the room, for he looked round in

's no one at the helm. . . . The truth is

hook h

said simply. "I think I'm g

thoughtfully-"Molly had a little of that same quality. Sometimes"-a worried frown gathered o

t impertinent if-if I laid my hand

, his eyes shini

e-I am compelled to be out all my time, my wife hardly ever leaves her ow

ie. I've-I've no one to look after now, since Uncle Patrick

' and the first thing I do is to shovel half my troubles on to your shoulders. It's absurd-disgraceful! . . . But it's amazingly good!"

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