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Griffiths, Arthur, 1838-1908

"The Passenger from Calais"

" "Hope he didn't hurt you. He didn't mean it really;" and I
could see that the Earl could hardly contain himself in his rage.
Then, suddenly muttering something about "bounders" and "cads," he
forced his way through and hurried off, shouting his parting
instructions to us to join him as soon as possible at the Hotel
Hautecombe on the hill.
We followed quickly, and were ushered at once into his private
apartment. It was essential to confer and decide upon some plan of
action; but when I asked him what he proposed to do next, he received
my harmless request with a storm of invective and reproach.
"You miserable and incompetent fools! Don't expect me to tell you your
business. Why do I pay you? Why indeed? Nothing you have done has been
of the very slightest use; on the contrary, through your beastly
mismanagement I have been dragged into this degrading position, held
up to ridicule and contempt before all the world. And with it all, the
whole thing has failed. I sent you out to recover my child, and what
have you done? What has become of that abominable woman who stole it
from under your very noses? Blackguards! Bunglers! Idiots! Fat-headed
asses!"
"Nay, my lord," pleaded Tiler humbly, for I confess I was so much
annoyed by this undeserved reprimand I could not bring myself to
speak civilly.


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