The Mysterious Affair at Styles


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go for that fellow Japp, when I next see him!"  
"
Lot of Paul Prys," grunted Miss Howard.  
Lawrence opined that they had to make a show of doing something.  
Mary Cavendish said nothing.  
After tea, I invited Cynthia to come for a walk, and we sauntered off into the  
woods together.  
"
Well?" I inquired, as soon as we were protected from prying eyes by the  
leafy screen.  
With a sigh, Cynthia flung herself down, and tossed off her hat. The  
sunlight, piercing through the branches, turned the auburn of her hair to  
quivering gold.  
"Mr. Hastings--you are always so kind, and you know such a lot."  
It struck me at this moment that Cynthia was really a very charming girl!  
Much more charming than Mary, who never said things of that kind.  
"
"
"
"
Well?" I asked benignantly, as she hesitated.  
I want to ask your advice. What shall I do?"  
Do?"  
Yes. You see, Aunt Emily always told me I should be provided for. I suppose  
she forgot, or didn't think she was likely to die--anyway, I am not provided  
for! And I don't know what to do. Do you think I ought to go away from here  
at once?"  
"
Good heavens, no! They don't want to part with you, I'm sure."  
Cynthia hesitated a moment, plucking up the grass with her tiny hands.  
Then she said: "Mrs. Cavendish does. She hates me."  
"
Hates you?" I cried, astonished.  
Cynthia nodded.  
138  


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