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Wood, Henry, Mrs., 1814-1887

"The Channings"

And yet he had spent time that morning, thinking over what
his manner, his bearing must be if it came to this! Had it come upon
him unexpectedly he would have met it very differently; with far less
outward calmness, but most probably with indignant denial. "I will go
with you quietly," he said to the men.
"All right, sir," they answered with a nod, and a conviction that he
was a cool hand and a guilty one. "It's always best not to resist the
law--it never does no good."
He need not have resisted, but he ought to have waited until they asked
him to go. A dim perception of this had already begun to steal over
him. He was taking his hat from its place in the hall, when the voice
of Mr. Channing came ringing on his ear.
"Arthur, what is this? Give me an explanation."
Arthur turned back to the room, passing through the sea of faces to get
there; for all; except his helpless father, had come from their seats
to gather round and about that strange mystery in the hall, to try to
fathom it. Mr. Channing gave one long, keen glance at Arthur's
face--which was very unlike Arthur's usual face just then; for all its
candour seemed to have gone out of it. He did not speak to him; he
called in one of the men.
"Will you tell me your business here?" he asked courteously.
"Don't you know it, sir?" was the reply.
"No, I do not," replied Mr. Channing.
"Well, sir, it's an unpleasant accusation that is brought against this
young gentleman.


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