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From: | Frida Baird |
Subject: | stuck overturn |
Date: | Tue, 22 Aug 2006 10:33:09 +0100 |
She darted across and cried:Father Brown, I’ve been
looking for you. Look here, this is confidential, as I say, but I can confide in
you. It may be answered gloomily that every politician is emphatically a promising
politician.
The question is, as the man said in Dickens, is the
old man friendly?
My cousin Tom is incorrigible, said Lady
Mounteagle.
Haven’t you ever heard of the Red Moon of
Meru?
No purple tent in the bazaar, however, had been
provided for him to perform in. But I want you to appreciate the cunning of what the
fellow did tell you. It was not the depression of failure, but the depression of
success.
So there only remained one difficulty, as I say,
which is probably perplexing the gentleman now. An old man of eighty can walk, said
Father Brown. Is it about this business your mother started telling me about? I
never met Sir John Musgrave, and I understand very few people do meet him nowadays.
Musgrave shall leave it to Musgrave till the heavens fall.
That is his father, Sir Robert, a perfectly honest
old cavalier. But now I know something about their wonderful spiritual powers, I’m
glad to say I know better.
That is something of a paradox, said Hardcastle,
with a smile.
And he took to his heels to escape the embrace of
the man of science.
I cannot bring myself to leave it like this, he
said gravely.
What would be the use of my going after
him?
He’d have tried to show up Buddha or
Moses.
My friend, Father Brown—— began the
lawyer.
And we shall be only too glad, said the solicitor,
to convey such a happy assurance to your son. He escaped from them at a stroke, and
probably sent them chasing off to Riga after him.
Under no circumstances whatever will I ever speak
to him as long as I live. It was really the worst crime in the world, said Father
Brown. There are two kinds of men—but we can hardly discuss him just now, for here
he is.
Don’t like this brown monkey crawling about. My
friend, Father Brown—— began the lawyer.
No pal of mine, I’m happy to say, replied Granby
with grim flippancy.
I will send back the car, and you, of course, may
very naturally want to go with it.
There was something about that theory that he liked
in a way that is more—well, more theoretical.
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