Miss Horniman is one of the many people I have never met. “Then why write about her?” you ask. I really don’t know, except that I want to. She was (and, for all I know to the contrary, still is) something of a personality in Manchester, and she was so for a considerable period, she producing quite a few plays at the Gaiety Theatre that were well worth seeing.
“better English” than the written version, produced after much toil and pen-biting, which consisted in translating the same statement into some such language as: “I am in receipt of your communication of the 30th ultimo, and regret to be compelled to inform you in reply that, after mature consideration of the proposals therein contained, I find myself unable to pronounce a favourable judgment upon the same”—usually sending a furious dash through “the same” as “counterjumper’s lingo,” and then groaning over his inability to find a more Johnsonian substitute.
Then, as now, a number of dangerous channels existed in the Ohio and Mississippi. They were designated as such in The Navigator. Near the head of some of them lived reliable settlers who made it a business to pilot boats through for pay. Pirates frequently succeeded in passing themselves off as trustworthy local pilots. Boats turned over to such men for safe steering were usually grounded and immediately thereafter delivered into the hands of outlaws in waiting.
Theodora colored brilliantly. A marquis asking to be presented to Josiah C. March's daughter was a big thing, as the defunct March would have expressed it—and although Sir John had not said a word about his relationship to the old gentleman, yet Theodora knew all about it, having studied the subject thoroughly in Debrett. So, after taking a turn about the ball-room, they returned. Sir John presented the marquis, and then courteously stepped aside that the old gentleman might have her all to himself.
"No. What the devil were they, then?"
“You have it with you—hein?” Poirot was watching her narrowly.
Colonel Joshua Baker, the victim of this famous robbery, was a merchant living in central Kentucky. In his day he made a number of trips south, going down in flatboats and returning by way of the old Natchez Trace. Colonel Baker had the misfortune to come in contact with Mason at least once on land and once on water, and, as is later shown, played an important part in the activities that resulted in ending Mason’s career.
“What old wound?”
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