J. S. Fletcher

“ And in the middle of dinner Madrasia, with a whimsical laugh and a roguish sparkle in her eyes, bent towards Parslewe, who, as usual, was unconcerned, phlegmatic, and apparently quite at home.
“If it’s not stripping away too many of the wrappings of your precious mystery, Jimmie,” she said, “may one ask a question?” ”

“ I remarked.
“Oh, well, one thinks of things, sir,” he answered. “Faces, now, sir, they stir your memory up, don’t you think? And I’ve seen some remarkable faces in my time—faces that you’d remember twenty years after. Some faces, of course, is that ordinary that you never notice ’em. But others——”
At that moment Parslewe put his face through the swing door behind us, and seeing the hall-porter on the steps came out. He had a letter in his hand. Coming to the hall-porter he waved the letter towards the west end of the Market Place. ”

“ And I noticed that after a first glance at him, she gave Parslewe a steady, knowing inspection.
“Good morning to you, ma’am,” said Parslewe, with his best old-fashioned politeness. “I understand we may look round?”
The housekeeper explained. The state rooms, including those once used by Queen Elizabeth, and the bed in which her Majesty had slept, were open to inspection. Visitors paid a shilling each; the shillings were given to the local charities. So Parslewe paid three shillings, and we all inscribed our names in a book—Parslewe last. ”

“ He remained inside for several minutes; when he emerged again it was in the company of a tall, weather-beaten old man whom, because of his velveteen coat and general appearance, I took to be a game-keeper. ”

“ You’d almost think they manufacture things! But the fact is, sir, this is an old part of England, with a lot of old houses about, old country seats, and the like. And families die out, and the stuff they’ve been accumulating for generations comes to auction, and a lot of it gets into these curio shops—that’s how it’s done, sir. ”