Carruthers
explained that the reason was that my uncle had just heard of the
death of his brother, and so felt responsible for our fate."
"Excuse me," said Holmes; "when was this interview?"
"Last December -- four months ago."
"Pray proceed."
"Mr. Woodley seemed to me to be a most odious person.
He was for ever making eyes at me -- a coarse, puffy-faced,
red-moustached young man, with his hair plastered down on each
side of his forehead. I thought that he was perfectly hateful --
and I was sure that Cyril would not wish me to know such a person."
"Oh, Cyril is his name!" said Holmes, smiling.
The young lady blushed and laughed.
"Yes, Mr. Holmes; Cyril Morton, an electrical engineer,
and we hope to be married at the end of the summer. Dear me,
how DID I get talking about him? What I wished to say was that
Mr. Woodley was perfectly odious, but that Mr. Carruthers, who
was a much older man, was more agreeable. He was a dark, sallow,
clean-shaven, silent person; but he had polite manners and a
pleasant smile. He inquired how we were left, and on finding
that we were very poor he suggested that I should come and teach
music to his only daughter, aged ten.
Pages:
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155