When you visit our website, if you give your consent, we will use cookies to allow us to collect data for aggregated statistics to improve our service and remember your choice for future visits. Cookie Policy & Privacy Policy
Dear Reader, we use the permissions associated with cookies to keep our website running smoothly and to provide you with personalized content that better meets your needs and ensure the best reading experience. At any time, you can change your permissions for the cookie settings below.
If you would like to learn more about our Cookie, you can click on Privacy Policy.
I could see that Urcombe was on the point of saying something further, but checked himself. “Ah! very likely that was it,” he said. But something had disturbed our usual peaceful sociability that night, and something had damped Mrs. Amworth’s usual high spirits. She had no gusto for her piquet, and left after a couple of games. Urcombe had been silent too, indeed he hardly spoke again till she departed. “That was unfortunate,” he said, “for the outbreak of — of a very mysterious disease, let us call it, took place at Peshawar, where she and her husband were. And —” “Well?” I asked. “He was one of the victims of it,” said he. “Naturally I had quite forgotten that when I spoke.” The summer was unreasonably hot and rainless, and Maxley suffered much from drought, and also from a plague