Law and the Lady
335 pages
English

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335 pages
English

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Description

In addition to his reputation as one of the important early innovators in the genre of detective fiction, Wilkie Collins is recognized as being one of the first writers to feature female sleuths in his stories. In "The Law and the Lady," Collins' heroine succeeds in cracking a tough case that has left professional investigators stumped.

Informations

Publié par
Date de parution 01 octobre 2010
Nombre de lectures 0
EAN13 9781775419563
Langue English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0134€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

THE LAW AND THE LADY
* * *
WILKIE COLLINS
 
*

The Law and the Lady First published in 1875 ISBN 978-1-775419-56-3 © 2010 The Floating Press
While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike.
Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
*
NoteAddressed to the Reader PART I - PARADISE LOST Chapter I - The Bride's Mistake Chapter II - The Bride's Thoughts Chapter III - Ramsgate Sands Chapter IV - On the Way Home Chapter V - The Landlady's Discovery Chapter VI - My Own Discovery Chapter VII - On the Way to the Major Chapter VIII - The Friend of the Women Chapter IX - The Defeat of the Major Chapter X - The Search Chapter XI - The Return to Life Chapter XII - The Scotch Verdict Chapter XIII - The Man's Decision Chapter XIV - The Woman's Answer PART II - PARADISE REGAINED Chapter XV - The Story of the Trial the Preliminaries Chapter XVI - First Question—Did the Woman Die Poisoned? Chapter XVII - Second Question—Who Poisoned Her? Chapter XVIII - Third Question—What was His Motive? Chapter XIX - The Evidence for the Defense Chapter XX - The End of the Trial Chapter XXI - I See My Way Chapter XXII - The Major Makes Difficulties Chapter XXIII - My Mother-In-Law Surprises Me Chapter XXIV - Miserrimus Dexter—First View Chapter XXV - Miserrimus Dexter—Second View Chapter XXVI - More of My Obstinacy Chapter XXVII - Mr. Dexter at Home Chapter XXVIII - In the Dark Chapter XXIX - In the Light Chapter XXX - The Indictment of Mrs. Beauly Chapter XXXI - The Defense of Mrs. Beauly Chapter XXXII - A Specimen of My Wisdom Chapter XXXIII - A Specimen of My Folly Chapter XXXIV - Gleninch Chapter XXXV - Mr. Playmore's Prophecy Chapter XXXVI - Ariel Chapter XXXVII - At the Bedside Chapter XXXVIII - On the Journey Back Chapter XXXIX - On the Way to Dexter Chapter XL - Nemesis at Last Chapter XLI - Mr. Playmore in a New Character Chapter XLII - More Surprises Chapter XLIII - At Last! Chapter XLIV - Our New Honeymoon Chapter XLV - The Dust-Heap Disturbed Chapter XLVI - The Crisis Deferred Chapter XLVII - The Wife's Confession Chapter XLVIII - What Else Could I Do? Chapter XLIX - Past and Future Chapter L - The Last of the Story Endnotes
NoteAddressed to the Reader
*
IN offering this book to you, I have no Preface to write. I have onlyto request that you will bear in mind certain established truths, whichoccasionally escape your memory when you are reading a work of fiction.Be pleased, then, to remember (First): That the actions of human beingsare not invariably governed by the laws of pure reason. (Secondly):That we are by no means always in the habit of bestowing our love onthe objects which are the most deserving of it, in the opinions ofour friends. (Thirdly and Lastly): That Characters which may not haveappeared, and Events which may not have taken place, within the limitsof our own individual experience, may nevertheless be perfectly naturalCharacters and perfectly probable Events, for all that. Having saidthese few words, I have said all that seems to be necessary at thepresent time, in presenting my new Story to your notice.
W. C.
LONDON, February 1, 1875.
PART I - PARADISE LOST
*
Chapter I - The Bride's Mistake
*
"FOR after this manner in the old time the holy women also who trustedin God adorned themselves, being in subjection unto their own husbands;even as Sarah obeyed Abraham, calling him lord; whose daughters ye areas long as ye do well, and are not afraid with any amazement."
Concluding the Marriage Service of the Church of England in thosewell-known words, my uncle Starkweather shut up his book, and looked atme across the altar rails with a hearty expression of interest on hisbroad, red face. At the same time my aunt, Mrs. Starkweather, standingby my side, tapped me smartly on the shoulder, and said,
"Valeria, you are married!"
Where were my thoughts? What had become of my attention? I was toobewildered to know. I started and looked at my new husband. He seemedto be almost as much bewildered as I was. The same thought had, asI believe, occurred to us both at the same moment. Was it reallypossible—in spite of his mother's opposition to our marriage—that wewere Man and Wife? My aunt Starkweather settled the question by a secondtap on my shoulder.
"Take his arm!" she whispered, in the tone of a woman who had lost allpatience with me.
I took his arm.
"Follow your uncle."
Holding fast by my husband's arm, I followed my uncle and the curate whohad assisted him at the marriage.
The two clergymen led us into the vestry. The church was in one of thedreary quarters of London, situated between the City and the WestEnd; the day was dull; the atmosphere was heavy and damp. We were amelancholy little wedding party, worthy of the dreary neighborhood andthe dull day. No relatives or friends of my husband's were present; hisfamily, as I have already hinted, disapproved of his marriage. Exceptmy uncle and my aunt, no other relations appeared on my side. I had lostboth my parents, and I had but few friends. My dear father's faithfulold clerk, Benjamin, attended the wedding to "give me away," as thephrase is. He had known me from a child, and, in my forlorn position, hewas as good as a father to me.
The last ceremony left to be performed was, as usual, the signing of themarriage register. In the confusion of the moment (and in the absence ofany information to guide me) I committed a mistake—ominous, in my auntStarkweather's opinion, of evil to come. I signed my married instead ofmy maiden name.
"What!" cried my uncle, in his loudest and cheeriest tones, "you haveforgotten your own name already? Well, well! let us hope you will neverrepent parting with it so readily. Try again, Valeria—try again."
With trembling fingers I struck the pen through my first effort, andwrote my maiden name, very badly indeed, as follows:
Valeria Brinton
When it came to my husband's turn I noticed, with surprise, that hishand trembled too, and that he produced a very poor specimen of hiscustomary signature:
Eustace Woodville
My aunt, on being requested to sign, complied under protest. "A badbeginning!" she said, pointing to my first unfortunate signature withthe feather end of her pen. "I hope, my dear, you may not live to regretit."
Even then, in the days of my ignorance and my innocence, that curiousoutbreak of my aunt's superstition produced a certain uneasy sensationin my mind. It was a consolation to me to feel the reassuring pressureof my husband's hand. It was an indescribable relief to hear my uncle'shearty voice wishing me a happy life at parting. The good man had lefthis north-country Vicarage (my home since the death of my parents)expressly to read the service at my marriage; and he and my aunt hadarranged to return by the mid-day train. He folded me in his greatstrong arms, and he gave me a kiss which must certainly have been heardby the idlers waiting for the bride and bridegroom outside the churchdoor.
"I wish you health and happiness, my love, with all my heart. You areold enough to choose for yourself, and—no offense, Mr. Woodville, youand I are new friends—and I pray God, Valeria, it may turn out thatyou have chosen well. Our house will be dreary enough without you; butI don't complain, my dear. On the contrary, if this change in your lifemakes you happier, I rejoice. Come, come! don't cry, or you will setyour aunt off—and it's no joke at her time of life. Besides, cryingwill spoil your beauty. Dry your eyes and look in the glass there, andyou will see that I am right. Good-by, child—and God bless you!"
He tucked my aunt under his arm, and hurried out. My heart sank alittle, dearly as I loved my husband, when I had seen the last of thetrue friend and protector of my maiden days.
The parting with old Benjamin came next. "I wish you well, my dear;don't forget me," was all he said. But the old days at home came backon me at those few words. Benjamin always dined with us on Sundays in myfather's time, and always brought some little present with him for hismaster's child. I was very near to "spoiling my beauty" (as my uncle hadput it) when I offered the old man my cheek to kiss, and heard him sighto himself, as if he too were not quite hopeful about my future life.
My husband's voice roused me, and turned my mind to happier thoughts.
"Shall we go, Valeria?" he asked.
I stopped him on our way out to take advantage of my uncle's advice; inother words, to see how I looked in the glass over the vestry fireplace.
What does the glass show me?
The glass shows a tall and slender young woman of three-and-twenty yearsof age. She is not at all the sort of person who attracts attention inthe street, seeing that she fails to exhibit the popular yellow hair andthe popular painted cheeks. Her hair is black; dressed, in these laterdays (as it was dressed years since to please her father), in broadripples drawn back from the forehead, and gathered into a simple knotbehind (like the hair of the Venus de Medicis), so as to show the neckbeneath. Her complexion is pale: except in moments of violent agitationthere is no color to be seen in her face. Her eyes are of so dark a bluethat they are generally mistaken for black. Her eyebrows are well enoughin form, but they are too dark and too strongly marked. Her nose justinclines toward the aquiline bend, and is considered a little too largeby persons difficult to please in the matter of noses. The mouth, herbest feature, is very delicately shaped, and is capable of presentinggreat varieties of expression. As to the face in general, it

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