The elder woman grew pale beneath the coarse powder that daubed her cheeks, and her dry lips twitched with a spasm of pain. Sybil rushed to her, flung her arms round her neck, and kissed her. Forgive me, Mother. I know it pains you to talk about our father. But it only pains you because you loved him so much. Don't look so sad. I am as happy to-day as you were twenty years ago. Ah! let me be happy for ever!My child, you are far too young to think of falling in love. Besides, what do you know of this young man? You don't even know his n

 

 

Oh, we shall soon clear up all that, said Bradstreet. Well, I have drawn my circle, and I only wish I knew at what point upon it the folk that we are in search of are to be found.I think I could lay my finger on it, said Holmes quietly.Really, now! cried the inspector, you have formed your opinion! Come, now, we shall see who agrees with you. I say

 

This courtly device failed of its effect. Johnson, who thought that 'all was false and hollow,' despised the honeyed words, and was even indignant that Lord Chesterfield should, for a moment, imagine that he could be the dupe of such an artifice. His expression to me concerning Lord Chesterfield, upon this occasion, was, 'Sir, after making great professions, he had, for many years, taken no notice of me; but when my Dictionary was coming out, he fell a scribbling in The World about it. Upon which, I wrote him a letter expressed in civil terms, but such as might shew him that I did not mind what he said or wrote, and that I had done with him.'

 

 

“Come,” said the lawyer, “I see you have some good reason, Poole; I see there is something seriously amiss. Try to tell me what it is.”“I think there’s been foul play,” said Poole, hoarsely.“Foul play!” cried the lawyer, a good deal frightened and rather inclined to be irritated in consequence. “What foul play! What does the man mean?”“I daren’t say, sir,” was the answer; “but will you come along with me and see for yourself?”Mr. Utterson’s only answer was to rise and get his hat and greatcoat;

 

“I wouldn’t speak of this note, you know,” said the master.“No, sir,” said the clerk. “I understand.”But no sooner was Mr. Utterson alone that night, than he locked the note into his safe, where it reposed from that time forward. “What!” he thought. “Henry Jekyll forge for a murderer!” And his blood ran cold in his veins.Time ran on; thousands of pounds were offered in reward, for the death of Sir Danvers was resented as a public injury; but Mr. Hyde had disappeared out of the ken of the police as though he had never existed. Much of his past was unearthed, indeed, and all disreputable: tales came out of the man’s cruelty, at once so callous and violent; of his vile life, of his strange asso