Franklin, still sticking to the helpless
view of our difficulty, whispered to me: "That man will be of no earthly
use to us. Superintendent Seegrave is an ass." Released in his turn, Mr.
Godfrey whispered to me--"Evidently a most competent person. Betteredge,
I have the greatest faith in him!" Many men, many opinions, as one of
the ancients said, before my time.
Mr. Superintendent's next proceeding took him back to the "boudoir"
again, with my daughter and me at his heels. His object was to discover
whether any of the furniture had been moved, during the night, out of
its customary place--his previous investigation in the room having,
apparently, not gone quite far enough to satisfy his mind on this point.
While we were still poking about among the chairs and tables, the door
of the bed-room was suddenly opened. After having denied herself to
everybody, Miss Rachel, to our astonishment, walked into the midst of
us of her own accord. She took up her garden hat from a chair, and then
went straight to Penelope with this question:--
"Mr. Franklin Blake sent you with a message to me this morning?"
"Yes, miss."
"He wished to speak to me, didn't he?"
"Yes, miss.
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