Some Must Watch (British Murder Mystery). Ethel Lina White

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Some Must Watch (British Murder Mystery) - Ethel Lina White

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       Ethel Lina White

      Some Must Watch

      (British Murder Mystery)

      Published by

      Books

      - Advanced Digital Solutions & High-Quality eBook Formatting -

       [email protected]

      2017 OK Publishing

      ISBN 978-80-7583-035-7

      Table of Contents

       Chapter I. The Tree

       Chapter II. The First Cracks

       Chapter III. A Fireside Story

       Chapter IV. Ancient Lights

       Chapter V. The Blue Room

       Chapter VI. Illusion

       Chapter VII. The New Nurse

       Chapter VIII. Jealousy

       Chapter IX. The Old Woman Remembers

       Chapter X. The Telephone

       Chapter XI. An Article Of Faith

       Chapter XII. The First Gap

       Chapter XIII. Murder

       Chapter XIV. Safety First

       Chapter XV. Secret Intelligence

       Chapter XVI. The Second Gap

       Chapter XVII. When Ladies Disagree

       Chapter XVIII. The Defence Weakens

       Chapter XIX. One Over The Eight

       Chapter XX. A Lady's Toilet

       Chapter XXI. Clearing The Way

       Chapter XXII. Accident

       Chapter XXIII. What Shall We Do With A Drunken Sailor?

       Chapter XXIV. A Supper-Party

       Chapter XXV. The Watcher

       Chapter XXVI. Sailor's Sense

       Chapter XXVII. "Security Is Mortal's Chiefest Enemy"

       Chapter XXVIII. The Lion—Or The Tiger?

       Chapter XXIX. Alone

       Chapter XXX. The Walls Fall Down

       Chapter XXXI. Good Hunting

      "For Some must watch, while some must sleep: So runs the world away."

       —HAMLET

      CHAPTER I. THE TREE

       Table of Contents

      Helen realised that she had walked too far just as day-light was beginning to fade.

      As she looked around her, she was struck by the desolation of the country. During her long walk, she had met no one, and had passed no cottage. The high-banked lanes, which blocked her view, were little better than steep mudslides. On either side of her rose the hills—barren sepia mounds, blurred by a fine spit of rain.

      Over all hung a heavy sense of expectancy, as though the valley awaited some disaster. In the distance—too far away to be even a threat—rumbled faint, lumpy sounds of thunder.

      Fortunately Helen was a realist, used to facing hard economic facts, and not prone to self-pity. Of soaring spirit, yet possessed of sound common sense, she believed that those thinly-veiled pitfalls over hell—heaviness of body and darkness of spirit—could be explained away by liver or atmosphere.

      Small and pale as a slip of crescent moon, she was only redeemed from insignificance by her bush of light-red springy hair. But, in spite of her unostentatious appearance, she throbbed with a passion for life, expressed in an expectancy of the future, which made her welcome each fresh day, and shred its interest from every hour and minute.

      As a child, she pestered strangers to tell her the time, not from a mere dull wish to know whether it were early or late, but from a specialised curiosity to see their watches. This habit persisted when she had to earn her own living

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