She still thought that in the teeth
of all her misfortunes she could do better with herself than marry Mr.
Emilius. She conceived that the man must be impertinent if Mrs.
Carbuncle's assertion were true; but she was neither angry nor disgusted,
and she allowed him to talk to her, and even to make love to her, after
his nasty pseudo-clerical fashion.
She could surely still do better with herself than marry Mr. Emilius! It
was now the twentieth of March, and a fortnight had gone since an
intimation had been sent to her from the headquarters of the police that
Patience Crabstick was in their hands. Nothing further had occurred, and
it might be that Patience Crabstick had told no tale against her. She
could not bring herself to believe that Patience had no tale to tell, but
it might be that Patience, though she was in the hands of the police,
would find it to her interest to tell no tale against her late mistress.
At any rate there was silence and quiet, and the affair of the diamonds
seemed almost to be passing out of people's minds. Greystock had twice
called in Scotland Yard, but had been able to learn nothing. It was
feared, they said, that the people really engaged in the robbery had got
away scot-free.
Pages:
984
985
986
987
988
989
990
991
992
993
994
995
996
997
998
999
1000
1001
1002
1003
1004
1005
1006
1007
1008