Death At Gallows Green
“I doubt if they ever really fall in love; they marry of course; but generally from a prudent motive.
—MAUD DE PUYto her mother, 1883 Charles opened the door of Bradford Marsden’s study. His friend was standing by the French doors looking out, hands thrust into his pockets.
“May I intrude?” he asked.
Bradford turned from the window. “Ah, Charlie,” he said heartily. “Sit down and solve a problem for me, will you?”
Charles sat down by the fire and put both feet on the fender. “I came to ask you to... solve one for me.” He pulled out his pipe. “But let’s hear yours first. What is it?”
“What else?” Bradford went to the sideboard and poured two glasses of brandy. “Money.”
Charles wasn’t surprised. Lord Marsden had settled an allowance on his eldest son but it almost never went far enough to support Bradford’s expensive tastes. From time to time, his friend had applied to him for the funds he needed to get him out of a tight place, and Charles had always been glad to oblige.MoreLess
—MAUD DE PUYto her mother, 1883 Charles opened the door of Bradford Marsden’s study. His friend was standing by the French doors looking out, hands thrust into his pockets.
“May I intrude?” he asked.
Bradford turned from the window. “Ah, Charlie,” he said heartily. “Sit down and solve a problem for me, will you?”
Charles sat down by the fire and put both feet on the fender. “I came to ask you to... solve one for me.” He pulled out his pipe. “But let’s hear yours first. What is it?”
“What else?” Bradford went to the sideboard and poured two glasses of brandy. “Money.”
Charles wasn’t surprised. Lord Marsden had settled an allowance on his eldest son but it almost never went far enough to support Bradford’s expensive tastes. From time to time, his friend had applied to him for the funds he needed to get him out of a tight place, and Charles had always been glad to oblige.MoreLess
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