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Collins, Wilkie, 1824-1889

"The Moonstone"


"Isn't that Miss Verinder's room?" asked Sergeant Cuff.
I replied that it was, and invited him to go in with me to supper. The
Sergeant remained in his place, and said something about enjoying the
smell of the garden at night. I left him to his enjoyment. Just as I
was turning in at the door, I heard "The Last Rose of Summer" at the
wicket-gate. Sergeant Cuff had made another discovery! And my young
lady's window was at the bottom of it this time!
The latter reflection took me back again to the Sergeant, with a polite
intimation that I could not find it in my heart to leave him by himself.
"Is there anything you don't understand up there?" I added, pointing to
Miss Rachel's window.
Judging by his voice, Sergeant Cuff had suddenly risen again to the
right place in his own estimation. "You are great people for betting in
Yorkshire, are you not?" he asked.
"Well?" I said. "Suppose we are?"
"If I was a Yorkshireman," proceeded the Sergeant, taking my arm, "I
would lay you an even sovereign, Mr. Betteredge, that your young lady
has suddenly resolved to leave the house. If I won on that event, I
should offer to lay another sovereign, that the idea has occurred to her
within the last hour.


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