A Connoisseur's Case Read Online Free PDF

me.’
    â€˜But that’s splendid,’ Judith said.
    â€˜Yes, my lady – even if the work is not Mrs Coulson’s work.’ Seth Crabtree had been looking critically at his half-carved rudder. Now he slipped it into a pocket and put the model barge under his arm. ‘There’s nobody will mind my borrowing this,’ he said. ‘And, when the repair’s made, it may as well go back to the chimney piece where it’s stood for so long. And now, sir and my lady, I’ll take my leave, after having been burdening you overlong with my story. But your interest was kindly, and has been kindly taken.’
    â€˜Perhaps we’ll see you again soon,’ Judith said. ‘I hope we do.’
    â€˜Thank you kindly again, my lady. And it may be so, for life has many chances.’
    And at this, Seth Crabtree gave his bob of a bow and walked away. He had concluded the meeting, Appleby reflected, very deliberately on the note of the rural sage.

 
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    â€˜We shan’t, in fact, see him again,’ Appleby said. ‘So we’ll never quite know about him.’
    â€˜Or why he was being spied on. But we shall meet Mr Bertram Coulson. An affable gentleman, even if not quite in the old style. Open and conversable. Mark that, John. We only have to go up to Scroop House, announce that the work of William Chambers fascinates us, and sit down in the middle of it. Hollywood will then be summoned, and the cake and Madeira will appear. We’ll go now.’
    It hadn’t occurred to Appleby that Judith would thus see as a green light Seth Crabtree’s description of the owner of the big house. But now, to his satisfaction, what was at least a momentary distraction turned up. It took the form of the appearance from the inn of that Mr David Channing-Kennedy who advertised himself as licensed to sell spirits, wines, beers and tobacco in its interior. He was of a muscular frame beginning to run to flesh; his complexion was florid; his huge handlebar moustache, presumably the cherished symbol of a martial past, was of a bright ginger hue. His clothes would have been best described as sporty, their elements being so mingled that their owner might with equal propriety have been about to jump on a horse, lurk behind a butt, pant after a pack of beagles, or wade in quest of trout or salmon deep into the flood.
    â€˜Good afternoon.’ Mr Channing-Kennedy addressed Judith with the confidence proper in an equal, and the cordiality – at once measured and easy – of a hotelier skilled in the higher reaches of his trade. At the same time he gave Appleby, rather oddly, a glance a good deal sharper than he had favoured him with on their earlier encounter in the inn. ‘A splendid day for walking, is it not? Can I get you anything more? Coffee, perhaps? We do manage rather tolerable coffee, although it seems not much in demand in these parts.’
    â€˜No, thank you,’ Judith said. And she added: ‘You haven’t been here long?’
    â€˜No, no – not for long. Terrible blighters, you know, the chaps who run chains of pubs like this. But even they wouldn’t keep me on a permanent assignment down here. The idea is that the place should be pulled together. That it should be worked up, you know, in the direction of a better class of trade. There’s accommodation for the night, of course, although only in a small way. I’m working that up too. We rather hope for tourists in the season. The Company is putting out publicity about the canal and the tunnel. The tunnel’s rather unique in its way. Constructed in the medieval period or thereabouts’ – and Mr Channing-Kennedy waved a hand as if to excuse himself from the pursuit of any pedantic chronological nicety – ‘and over three miles long. Wonderful what those old chaps could do. Cathedrals, and so forth. All by hand. Flint arrows and stone axes, now. Remarkable things, eh? Small