To Hugh Walpole for a friendship that has even triumphantly survived a collaboration...

There, far below, is the knobbly backbone of England, the Pennine Range. At first, the whole dark length of it, from the Peak to Cross Fell, is visible. Then the Derbyshire hills and the Cumberland fe...

There, far below, is the knobbly backbone of England, the Pennine Range. At first, the whole dark length of it, from the Peak to Cross Fell, is visible. Then the Derbyshire hills and the Cumberland fe...

There, far below, is the knobbly backbone of England, the Pennine Range. At first, the whole dark length of it, from the Peak to Cross Fell, is visible. Then the Derbyshire hills and the Cumberland fe...

As he moved slowly down Manchester Road, the press of fellow-spectators still thick about him, Mr. Oakroyd found himself brooding over the hollow vanities of this life. He felt unusually depressed. Hi...

The weekend had begun badly for Mr. Oakroyd, and it did not improve. The depression of Saturday afternoon could not be shaken off. He could think of nothing to look forward to. He was troubled by a va...

“An’ serve ’im right, too,” Mrs. Oakroyd muttered. “I haven’t a bit of patience with him.” It was the third time she had turned over this kipper, now blackened on both sides. It awaited, this kipper, ...

Once more we look down upon English hills, lit by the same September sun. But it is another England; the dark Pennines have been left far behind; the grim heights of ling and peat and black rock, the ...

Once more we look down upon English hills, lit by the same September sun. But it is another England; the dark Pennines have been left far behind; the grim heights of ling and peat and black rock, the ...

The next morning, Miss Trant, looking through her window at the radiant vapour, decided that the day would be fine and that it should be honoured by her golden-brown jumper suit, a recent and triumpha...

There was only one letter by Miss Trant’s plate the following morning, but it was a very important letter indeed. It ran as follows: My dear Elizabeth, Did you know that your father owed me £600? He d...

“Do you know⁠—” Hilary, began, looking down upon her from the carriage window. “Well! Do I know what?” She smiled up at him. That pitiless observer of the human race hesitated a moment. Then he contin...

We have left all the hills behind; our faces are turned towards the long strands, salted and whistling, of the North Sea. Here, the land is a great saucer, patterned with dykes and arrowy roads. To th...

We have left all the hills behind; our faces are turned towards the long strands, salted and whistling, of the North Sea. Here, the land is a great saucer, patterned with dykes and arrowy roads. To th...

Sunday was surprisingly warm for a late September day. It was not, however, a pleasant and bright warmth, but sulky grey heat, as if the whole place had been shovelled into a huge dim oven. Not a brea...

“Having drunk your health, Jollifant,” said Fauntley, his fingers closing round the bottle of Old Rob Roy, “I will now proceed to give you a little good advice.” He spoke in that unusually careful and...

When Mr. Oakroyd dashed out of the house and hurried down Ogden Street with his little basket trunk in one hand and his bag of tools in the other, he had no idea where he was going. He only knew he wa...

When Mr. Oakroyd dashed out of the house and hurried down Ogden Street with his little basket trunk in one hand and his bag of tools in the other, he had no idea where he was going. He only knew he wa...

A strident voice filled the kitchen. Mr. Oakroyd grunted, half-opened his eyes and then closed them again. For a few blessed moments there was a silence. Then the voice came again, screeching and cutt...

It was late in the afternoon when Mr. Oakroyd saw the curious motor-van. Since leaving Poppleby’s Dining-Rooms, he had struggled down some eight or nine miles of dusty road, forever changing his baske...

The next morning they were up and away very early. “Take us an hour to get there,” Joby explained. “And I want a good pitch.” They made a quick breakfast, tea and bread and boiled ham, and were bumpin...

“Well, George,” said Joby, the next morning, “yer done me a good turn or two, see. I’d like to keep yer on the job a bit longer, but yer see ’ow it is. And this oughter straighten us up a bit.” And he...

The car was the same two-seater Mercia that had carried Miss Trant so bravely out of Hitherton four days before. It was not perhaps the same Elizabeth Trant, certainly not the one Hitherton had known....

The car was the same two-seater Mercia that had carried Miss Trant so bravely out of Hitherton four days before. It was not perhaps the same Elizabeth Trant, certainly not the one Hitherton had known....

She spent Tuesday night at Market Harborough. The next morning, she ran through Leicester, or rather lost herself in what seemed a nightmare of traffic and unlabelled streets and then miraculously fou...

Miss Trant sighed with relief. This was the street they were looking for, and though it was not far from the centre of the town, it had been very difficult indeed to find, and she was weary of stoppin...

Thus it was that she found herself, on the Thursday afternoon, on the road a few miles from Rawsley. Behind, on top of her own bags, was a theatrical basket, the property of Miss Elsie Longstaff, and ...

We left Inigo Jollifant hurrying away from Washbury Manor in the darkness of Monday night. We have just seen him arrive at the Station Refreshment Rooms in Rawsley on Thursday afternoon. In order to u...

We left Inigo Jollifant hurrying away from Washbury Manor in the darkness of Monday night. We have just seen him arrive at the Station Refreshment Rooms in Rawsley on Thursday afternoon. In order to u...

Somebody was shaking him. He opened his eyes, to see a black moustache, large and badly trimmed, and it annoyed him so much that he closed his eyes again. “Now then, sir, now then!” it said. Inigo did...

On the following night, Wednesday, Inigo was sauntering through the streets of Nottingham. He had not gone there to look for Mr. Morton Mitcham, though he had reminded himself with a certain quickenin...

“Shame isn’t the word for it, it isn’t really, Miss Trant,” cried Miss Elsie Longstaff indignantly. “I’ve been in work now since last April, five months and more, consecutive, and look at the position...

“Shame isn’t the word for it, it isn’t really, Miss Trant,” cried Miss Elsie Longstaff indignantly. “I’ve been in work now since last April, five months and more, consecutive, and look at the position...

“Shame isn’t the word for it, it isn’t really, Miss Trant,” cried Miss Elsie Longstaff indignantly. “I’ve been in work now since last April, five months and more, consecutive, and look at the position...

At half past seven that night, all our friends were assembled in the upstairs dining-room of The Royal Standard⁠—with one exception. Miss Trant was not there. The Misses Dean and Longstaff, on being q...

Inigo seemed to spend all his waking hours, the next few days, on the improvised stage at the Rawsley Assembly Rooms, pounding away on the ancient Broadwood Grand. Two of the notes, the first G in the...

Having taken the plunge, Miss Trant found herself at once in another world. It was, so far, chiefly a world of tea and chops and telegrams. The tea and chops came from her Rawsley landlady, who was ve...

Having taken the plunge, Miss Trant found herself at once in another world. It was, so far, chiefly a world of tea and chops and telegrams. The tea and chops came from her Rawsley landlady, who was ve...

It was very exciting being at last on the move. She took with her in the car Jimmy Nunn and Mr. Oakroyd, setting off early so that these two would have an opportunity of putting the stage in order, fo...

Dotworth had been a failure: they had made neither friends nor money there, and they had all been glad to leave the place. They would really make a start, they told one another, at Sandybay, which som...

Wednesday night was better than Monday or Tuesday: there were more people, especially in the cheaper seats, and, perhaps influenced by Miss Thong, who clapped everything, they were a trifle more enthu...

At the beginning of that week at Sandybay, Mr. Oakroyd was a happy man. Never in all his dreams of being an independent craftsman had he been so independent or so much the craftsman as he was now. He ...

At the beginning of that week at Sandybay, Mr. Oakroyd was a happy man. Never in all his dreams of being an independent craftsman had he been so independent or so much the craftsman as he was now. He ...

It was a letter that destroyed his peace of mind. He had soon seen that he could not cut himself off entirely from the folk at home. They must know where to find him, for though they might think they ...

There is no pleasanter market town in all the East Midlands than Winstead, with its cobbled square and broad High Street, its fine fifteenth-century Parish Church, Elizabethan Market Hall, and old gab...

Mr. Oakroyd felt that he could not go on much longer: his secret was weighing him down. “I mun tell somebody,” he admitted to himself, “or I’ll be going right clean off me dot.” Some of the others wer...

“Now this,” said Mrs. Joe impressively, taking up the last little heap of cards, “is what’s sure to come true.” “What was all the rest then?” Inigo asked. “Look here, Inigo,” cried Susie, “whose fortu...

“Now this,” said Mrs. Joe impressively, taking up the last little heap of cards, “is what’s sure to come true.” “What was all the rest then?” Inigo asked. “Look here, Inigo,” cried Susie, “whose fortu...

“And did you really jump out just to keep me company?” said Susie. “I think it’s sweet of you, Inigo.” Inigo himself, though he did not say so, thought it was rather sweet of him too. He had just been...

Tea would be served, they were told, in the lounge. There was a large bright fire in the lounge, and there was also a large bright woman. She stood out from the other guests, the assorted “motterists,...

“Figure or no figure,” said Susie, “I must have some.” She was examining the box of chocolates that Lady Partlit had given her. They were very large aristocratic chocolates, and by the time they had e...

It began, that awful week, before they reached Tewborough. It began⁠—at least for eight of them⁠—on the Sunday night at Middleford. The week at Middleford was a steady plodding affair, but it could bo...

It began, that awful week, before they reached Tewborough. It began⁠—at least for eight of them⁠—on the Sunday night at Middleford. The week at Middleford was a steady plodding affair, but it could bo...

Cathedral cities, market towns, ports forgotten by the sea, spas long out of fashion, all these can decay beautifully, and often their charm increases as the life ebbs out of them. Industrial towns, l...

“Talk about a frost!” cried Mrs. Joe, immediately after the performance on Monday night. “You could skate on it for weeks,” said Susie gloomily. “And I’ll swear I’ve a temperature of 102.” “And I’m su...

At noon on Saturday they were all there, not excluding Mr. Oakoyd, whose pipe was still in his mouth but quite cold and empty and whose little cap was as far back on his head as it could possibly go, ...

From Miss Elsie Longstaff to Miss Effie Longstaff ℅ Mrs. Bottomley, 23 Jagger Street, Luddenstall, Yorks. 19 December Dear Effie, I got the things alright and ought to have written before this but we ...

From Miss Elsie Longstaff to Miss Effie Longstaff ℅ Mrs. Bottomley, 23 Jagger Street, Luddenstall, Yorks. 19 December Dear Effie, I got the things alright and ought to have written before this but we ...

From Mrs. Joe Brundit to her sister, Mrs. Sorly, of Denmark Hill ℅ Mrs. Andrews, 5 Clough Street, Luddenstall, Yorks. 21 December Dearest Clara, You will be glad to hear the Luck is in for once⁠—we ar...

From Jimmy Nunn to Mrs. Nunn ℅ Mrs. Shaw, 17 Clough Street, Luddenstall, Yorks. 23 December Dear Carrie, Just a line to let you know where I am and to say I am feeling better than I have done for the ...

From Jerry Jerningham to Lady Partlit ℅ Mrs. Long, 6 Bury Road, Luddenstall, Yorks. 24 December Dear Lady Partlit, Thank you very much for the cig. case which arrived at The Ionic yesterday. How did y...

Mr. Morton Mitcham to Gus Jeffson, Esq., Eccentric Club The Ionic, Luddenstall, Yorks. 26 December Dear Sir, Re. your article “Touring Out East” in last week’s Stage, you say your Co. was the first to...

From Susie Dean to Miss Kitty Mackay, “The Multi-Million Girl” Co. Empire, Cardiff. ℅ Mrs. Wright, 11 Jagger Street, Luddenstall, Yorks. 27 December Darling Kitty, Your letter only arrived this mornin...

From Inigo Jollifant to Robert Fauntley, Washbury Manor School ℅ Mrs. Jugg, 3 Clough Street, Luddenstall, Yorks. 29 December Dear Fauntley, Many thanks for sending on those odds and ends so promptly. ...

From Miss Trant to Mrs. Gerald Atkinson (née Dorothy Chillingford), Kenya Colony Luddenstall, Yorks. 31 December My dear Dorothy, Your last letter only arrived here two days ago. I am so glad you are ...

And as the snow drifted high on the moorland above and came whirling down in soft flakes to the valley below, until at last every roof in Luddenstall was thick and whitened and all the streets were to...

The March wind went shrieking over the Midland Plain. Under a sky as rapid, ragged, and tumultuous as a revolution, all the standing water, the gathered thaws and rains of February, filling the dykes ...

The March wind went shrieking over the Midland Plain. Under a sky as rapid, ragged, and tumultuous as a revolution, all the standing water, the gathered thaws and rains of February, filling the dykes ...

The March wind went shrieking over the Midland Plain. Under a sky as rapid, ragged, and tumultuous as a revolution, all the standing water, the gathered thaws and rains of February, filling the dykes ...

The Crown is the oldest and most comfortable hotel in The Triangle, and Miss Trant had stayed on there because she liked the place and had been able to claim the small sitting-room upstairs for her ow...

Mrs. Joe put down her cup, then cocked her head in order, it seemed, to give her full attention to the wind. “Just listen to that, my dear,” she remarked complacently, rather as if she had shares in s...

No one knew better than Miss Elsie Longstaff herself that, at that very moment, it was touch and go with the gentleman who has been somewhat unfairly introduced to us as Pink Egg. Mr. Herbert Dulver w...

Elsie finished with the show on the last Saturday at Mundley, when she had been given a most successful Benefit Night, concluding with genuine tears and bouquets. Jimmy had already slipped down to Bir...

Elsie finished with the show on the last Saturday at Mundley, when she had been given a most successful Benefit Night, concluding with genuine tears and bouquets. Jimmy had already slipped down to Bir...

The next day, Elsie became a Dulver. From all parts of the country there came Dulvers to welcome her, the males all large, shining, pink, hoarse, and brassily convivial, the females all large, blonde,...

The time is a quarter to twelve on Thursday morning, the day after Elsie’s wedding. The place is the little upstairs room (where there are plenty of cushions and you may smoke) of Ye Jollie Dutche Caf...

The various encounters of that week may appear to be of little or no importance, but actually all of them, whether real or imaginary (for we do not know whether Miss Trant saw Dr. Hugh McFarlane or on...

Inigo noticed, without surprise, that the Gatford Hippodrome was elongating itself, swelling, soaring, conjuring out vast darkening sweeps of galleries. This made it all the more difficult to find Sus...

Inigo noticed, without surprise, that the Gatford Hippodrome was elongating itself, swelling, soaring, conjuring out vast darkening sweeps of galleries. This made it all the more difficult to find Sus...

It was too early to go to Felder and Hunterman’s, and Inigo was in no mood for exploring London. Besides, the streets were being slashed with cold rain. One minute a pale sun would creep out and set e...

Robert proved to be a grave, white-coated American who stood behind a cocktail bar in the glittering basement of one of the West End hotels. Inigo did not know which hotel it was. He knew very little ...

Susie’s birthday tea-party, held in a large upstairs room in Miss Trant’s hotel was just finishing when Inigo arrived. There were signs that Mr. Morton Mitcham was about to make a speech over the ruin...

The last time we were actually present when the Good Companions began a performance was on a Saturday night, the first real Night they had, at Sandybay, months ago. That was a tremendous occasion⁠—or ...

The last time we were actually present when the Good Companions began a performance was on a Saturday night, the first real Night they had, at Sandybay, months ago. That was a tremendous occasion⁠—or ...

The trouble began when Joe was singing, at the very opening of the programme. It was a cloud no larger than a man’s hand, but there it was. As usual, Joe was giving his audience, whom he apparently im...

“Well, you’ve made a benefit of this all right,” said the Inspector grimly. His audience was composed of Inigo and Joe, still in their stage costumes, which were torn and filthy, Mr. Oakroyd, all brui...

“Well, well!” cried the voice, though softly. “Well, well!” “Is it the same?” asked the nurse. “The very same,” the voice replied. It had lost some of the deep rough burr it had had years ago, this vo...

“Well, well!” cried the voice, though softly. “Well, well!” “Is it the same?” asked the nurse. “The very same,” the voice replied. It had lost some of the deep rough burr it had had years ago, this vo...

“You’ve not had a reply?” cried Susie. “I have,” Inigo replied, coming into the room. It was some time after eleven on the Wednesday morning. Susie had been dusting her sitting-room, which was also he...

They both jumped and spoke, but Susie’s cry was a second quicker than Inigo’s. “Married!” “Yes, quite a surprise, isn’t it?” said the lady who had once been a Partlit. She glittered and jangled and fl...

Once more we discover Mrs. Joe in her sitting-room, surrounded by the brown cotton-woolly moors and glens that haunted the imagination of Mrs. Pennyfeather’s uncle. Mrs. Joe is still knitting that mys...

And what was Mr. Oakroyd doing all this time? What has kept him in the background? The answer is⁠—a new part. For the first and last time in his life, Mr. Oakroyd played the detective, a role for whic...

It was deep dusk when Mr. Oakroyd’s train arrived at Black Moor Junction. He could see the street lamps twinkling on the hills, and here and there trams crawling up and down like golden beetles. The t...

It was deep dusk when Mr. Oakroyd’s train arrived at Black Moor Junction. He could see the street lamps twinkling on the hills, and here and there trams crawling up and down like golden beetles. The t...

The Bruddersford Infirmary could not be mistaken for one of the local factories because it has no tall chimney. Otherwise there is little difference. It is a rambling ugly building, all in blackened s...

He did what had to be done without protest. He helped Leonard to put something in the paper. He saw the undertaker and the insurance man. He sent a cable to Lily, and this alone of all his duties brou...

It is Saturday afternoon again, and once more something queer is happening in that narrow thoroughfare to the west of the town, Manchester Road. A grey-green tide flows sluggishly down the road a tide...

No, Susie has not married Inigo. On the other hand, she has not married anybody else. There have been times when rumours and little paragraphs in the gossip columns have sent Inigo flying round to see...