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Faith Moore
Hello and welcome to Storytime for Grown Ups. I'm Faith Moore, and this season we're reading the Woman in White by Wilkie Collins. Each episode I'll read a few chapters from the book, pausing from time to time to give brief explanations so it's easier to follow along. It's like an audiobook with built in notes. So brew a pot of tea, find a cozy chair and settle in. It's story time.
Greg
Hi. Welcome back. Thank you so much for being here with me. Thank you for spending your time with me right now. I'm thrilled to be here. I've been getting so, so many great letters. I feel like suddenly now we're in it.
Faith Moore
We're in the story.
Greg
Things are happening and you guys are starting to ask great questions and to wonder things and to come up with theories. And we're going to talk a lot more about that when we get to our discussion section. But it kind of feels like things are locking in now. Like we now kind of understand what.
Faith Moore
Story we're in and we're starting to.
Greg
Think, okay, like we were talking about last time.
Faith Moore
What is it? What's the mystery?
Greg
Where is it going to come from? It's sort of like we're all standing here, like, looking up and around, and us like, when is this thing gonna drop on our heads? Like, where is it coming from?
Faith Moore
Which direction?
Greg
Right? And that's so fun. I'm having so much fun with it. I hope you are, too. This is a fun book. It's supposed to be fun.
Faith Moore
Many of you have written lately also.
Greg
To say how funny it is. And many of you have asked me, is it supposed to be funny? Is it okay that I laughed at the description of Mrs. Basie? Is it okay that I laughed at Pesca? Is it okay that I laughed at Mr. Fairley? And the answer is yes, Absolutely yes. This book is also funny.
Faith Moore
Sure, it's suspenseful.
Greg
Sure, there's all these sensation things. There's this sense of foreboding, there's this foreshadowing, but it's also funny. And the funny is important because the funny helps it be fun instead of just dark and suspenseful and kind of creepy or, you know, the suspense gets too much and you're like, I can't.
Faith Moore
Handle this anymore, or whatever it is.
Greg
The humor is there to remind you that it's fun. Fun that we're supposed to be having fun. So I hope you are, because I certainly am. And I'm loving getting to hear from you about that. So thank you for writing in and.
Faith Moore
If you would like to write in.
Greg
The future, if you haven't already or you've forgotten how, you just go to my website, it's faithkmoore.com and you click on Contact or there's a link right in the show notes the description of this episode. You can scroll down and click on that. Those are great ways to get in touch with me. I always write back unless you say something mean and sometimes I pick your question or your letter to go on the show. So please do get in touch. I absolutely love your emails. It's like the highlight of my day when I check my email and see messages from you. Speaking of getting to chat, getting to talk to each other, I wanted to remind you that the first ever storytime for Grown Ups Tea time is scheduled for next Thursday, a week from today. Thursday, January 30th at 8:00pm Eastern.
Faith Moore
And if you're not sure what I'm.
Greg
Talking about, I will just briefly tell you. So in our online community, which is called the Drawing Room, not because we do a lot of art there, but because it's the, the drawing room, the withdrawing room in a lovely old country manner, it's our drawing room where we get to meet together and chat and talk about the book and just books in general and things like that. So in our online community there are monthly tea times. I'm calling them Tea Times and what these are, they are voice chats with.
Faith Moore
Me and with other storytime fans.
Greg
So basically it's kind of like a group phone call that we'll be having with each other. I will come prepared to talk about various things. If you don't want to talk, you don't have to. So if that makes you feel a little anxious, don't worry. You can come and just listen. Or if you want to chat with me, I would love to chat with you. I'm actually really excited about it because I get to get your emails, but we've never actually talked to each other. So I would love to chat with you and if that's of interest, then you also can talk to me. You can ask questions, you can ask me anything. It can be like an ask me anything. But I'll also come with some discussion topics about the book or books in general. And it's just going to be like a chat for like 45 minutes to an hour or so and we'll talk together and I'm really looking forward to it. I hope you are too.
Faith Moore
In order to join, you have to.
Greg
Be a member of the landed gentry, which is what I'm calling the membership tier that gains you access to the tea Times in the description of this episode. If you scroll down, you'll find a link to the membership options that we have that give you access to the drawing room itself and also to the tea times. So I'm not going to go on and on about this any more than I already have gone on and on about it. So feel free to click that link if you haven't already joined at the.
Faith Moore
Landed Gentry level and you would like to, and if you have already mark.
Greg
Your calendar, because one week from today, 8pm Eastern, we will be gathering there for our first ever tea time. And I'll give you a couple more reminders as you go, but I promise not to bore you with this if this is not interesting to you, so just scroll down and click the link if it is of interest to you. All right, so last time we read hartright's narrative chapters 9 through 10, and.
Faith Moore
Today we're going to read heart rate's.
Greg
Narrative chapters 11 through 12. So let's have a quick recap about what happened last time, and then I.
Faith Moore
Have two questions that may at first.
Greg
Seem completely unrelated, but I promise they actually are related and we're going to talk about them for a little bit and then we'll get into today's chapters. So here's the recap.
Faith Moore
All right, so where we left off. Walter discovers that he has fallen in.
Greg
Love with Laura Fairley.
Faith Moore
Against all his better judgment, they can't.
Greg
Possibly be together because she is an.
Faith Moore
Heiress and he is a drawing master, so she's very far above him socially, but it seems like she loves him in return.
Greg
But this only becomes clear because she.
Faith Moore
Begins to act differently toward him and hold herself apart from him, and the.
Greg
Kind of easy familiarity that had before Ben between them is gone now.
Faith Moore
Eventually, Marian takes Walter aside and tells him that even if they were social equals, which they're not, Laura could never.
Greg
Marry him because she's actually engaged to someone else.
Faith Moore
Walter finds this very hard to bear, but he agrees with Marian that he has to leave Lynbridge House right away, and they decide that he'll wait until the next time that the mail comes.
Greg
So that he can make it seem like he's received some kind of urgent.
Faith Moore
Summons back to London, and hopefully that'll.
Greg
Be enough to get Mr. Fairley to.
Faith Moore
Release him early from the time he was hired to stay and teach drawing. So it's extra important that he leave soon because Laura's future husband is due.
Greg
To arrive in a few days at the house.
Faith Moore
So while they're talking about all of this, a servant comes to tell Marian.
Greg
That Laura has received a letter that.
Faith Moore
Seemed to have upset her. And so Marian needs to hurry back to the house to find out what happened. But before she goes, Walter asks her the name of the man that Laura is going to marry. And she tells him that the man is called Sir Percival Glyde and that he comes from the same part of the country as Anne Catherine, and that he holds the rank of baronet.
Greg
Okay, so the first of our two questions comes from Kelly Russo. Kelly writes, I was wondering if you could clear up in my head how Ms. Fairlie and Ms. Halcombe are related. I know they're half sisters, but same mom or dad and they live with their uncle. I don't know why I can't get this straight and I don't want to.
Faith Moore
Google for fear of spoilers. Thank you.
Greg
And the second one comes from Greg. Greg writes, I'm firmly on team weekly installment, meaning he's on the team of waiting, not reading ahead in the book.
Faith Moore
Because of the weirdly enchanting things this.
Greg
Book is doing to my imagination, for example. And then here Greg gives a theory of what he thinks is going on here, but I'm not going to share that with you for reasons that I.
Faith Moore
Will explain in a minute.
Greg
So after his theory, Greg goes on to say, obviously, I don't know what in the world I'm talking about. That is of no concern to me. I can't see where we are going.
Faith Moore
But what a fun, long ride we're on. Like the ride Hartright takes with Laura and Marian in the carriage through the countryside. This is most enjoyable and I hope.
Greg
It takes longer than I anticipated. Drive on faith and thank you. Okay, so I think this is a good time to kind of step back.
Faith Moore
For a minute and take a look.
Greg
At the lay of the land, so to speak. I feel like most of the emails that I've been getting since the last episode can be placed in one of two categories. The first category, like Kelly's letter, is like, wait, hang on, can you clarify a few details? Which is super valid and that's pretty much what we're going to do today. But the second category, like Greg's letter, has been essentially, okay, here's my theory of the case, right? I'm getting these really amazing and super fun guesses from some of you about what you think is happening, what you think the mystery is going to be, or even just like little clues you're picking up on that you think might be important later. And I absolutely love that, because that's exactly how you should be thinking about this story.
Faith Moore
You should be wondering if this strange detail means something or if that strange.
Greg
Comment is actually the key to the case or whatever. Now, I'm not going to tell you, of course, whether you're right or wrong when you email me your guesses. That would spoil the book for you.
Faith Moore
And I'm not even going to tell you on the podcast what other people.
Greg
Are guessing, because I don't want to put ideas into your head that weren't there and either mislead you or accidentally tell you something that turns out to be true. That's why I didn't read you the part of Greg's letter where he made his guesses. But you should definitely keep those guesses coming. I love hearing what you're thinking as we go. So do keep writing to me with those. But also, I'm telling you about this category of email because I think it's important to remember that we are supposed.
Faith Moore
To sort of be thinking in the back of our mind.
Greg
So what is going on here?
Faith Moore
Where's the mystery? What's the problem?
Greg
What is this horrible crime that gets committed? Right? But I'm also telling it to you because I think we can sometimes do that too much. We can get sort of twisted up in our minds and second guess everything and miss sort of essential information because we're so primed to mistrust everything. And that becomes sort of a shame because if, for example, we decide that, like, actually Walder is the bad guy or something, which is not what Greg said, by the way. I just made that up myself. But if we decide that Walter is evil, then we stop identifying with him.
Faith Moore
And then we kind of lose the emotional heart, the story.
Greg
And things become very clinical and all about, like, events and dates and tiny clues and things like that.
Faith Moore
And then we miss the forest for the trees, essentially.
Greg
Remember, this is a story, not an actual police case.
Faith Moore
So the heart of it, the meat.
Greg
Of it, is an emotional experience. So while we should be thinking, okay.
Faith Moore
What'S going on here?
Greg
Why did Wilkie Collins mention this weird thing or that weird thing?
Faith Moore
Why is that detail there?
Greg
Or whatever, we shouldn't step so far outside the bounds of the story that Collins is telling as to lose sight of it. For example, we know that Walter isn't the bad guy.
Faith Moore
We've been told it.
Greg
Essentially, his name is Hartright, so we know his heart is in the right place.
Faith Moore
He helps stranded women on the side of the road.
Greg
He saves people from drowning. And last time we discovered that even though he has forgotten his position and fallen in love with his pupil, he's.
Faith Moore
Still an upstanding guy.
Greg
He hasn't told Laura how he feels, he hasn't crossed any lines. And he understands immediately that he's going to have to leave because Laura is engaged.
Faith Moore
And even if she wasn't, they could.
Greg
Never be together because he's so much below her socially. Those are the kinds of clues that we should be paying attention to. Who are these people? Are they good? Are they bad?
Faith Moore
And we can know that by the.
Greg
Way they behave, right? So Walter is a good guy and we know that.
Faith Moore
And we can do the same thing with the other characters as we go along and make assumptions about whether we're.
Greg
Supposed to trust them or not. For example, I don't know about you, but I really like Marian Halcombe. You know, I like her forthright way of talking. I like that she's so self aware. And I like how she told Walter.
Faith Moore
About Laura's engagement in a way that.
Greg
Really took his feelings into account but didn't belittle him. She feels like a friend and that could be wrong.
Faith Moore
She may turn out to be bad.
Greg
Or evil or something, but at this point I don't really have any reason to think so.
Faith Moore
And if it turns out that she.
Greg
Is evil, Collins is going to have some explaining to do.
Faith Moore
Right?
Greg
And he might, he might be able to do that. He might be able to show us how. Oh, actually he dropped this hint and.
Faith Moore
That hint and whatever, but at this.
Greg
Point I'm not seeing it. And right now I actually have a lot of reasons to like her. So for now I'm going to like her. It's the same for me with Laura Fairley. Right. Laura is the woman that Walter has fallen in love with. And we like and we trust Walter. Also, we know that Walter is still in love with her even now.
Faith Moore
So that speaks well of her.
Greg
Also, we know that Laura is in love with Walter and that speaks well of her because Walter is a good, upstanding guy. So someone who falls for him is potentially good and upstanding as well, though not necessarily. If we decide to trust Marian, then.
Faith Moore
We know that Marian is absolutely committed.
Greg
To Laura and loves her more than anyone else.
Faith Moore
So that speaks well of her too.
Greg
And she hasn't done anything so far that's particularly suspicious. I mean, there is this weird connection to Anne Catherick, this weird physical resemblance, but so far there's no indication that this is Laura's fault. Or that she's doing anything nefarious with it. In fact, she doesn't even seem to know about it, as far as we can tell. So at this point, it feels safe.
Faith Moore
To trust Laura as well and to see her as the sort of person.
Greg
That Walter could love. And maybe we'll be wrong, maybe we'll be right. But my point is that we don't.
Faith Moore
Want to tie ourselves up in knots without evidence.
Greg
The thing we want to be doing is keeping track of the things we've been told. Right? Keeping track of what seems odd or out of place. Keeping track of the sequence of events and the characters within it and how those characters react to the things that are happening. And then we can make judgments based on that.
Faith Moore
And if we're wrong, I mean.
Greg
Oh, well, right. Like it's not a test, it's a story.
Faith Moore
So you want to let the story.
Greg
Kind of carry you along from moment to moment and allow questions and theories to sort of bubble up in your mind and get you excited as you go. Which leads me back to the first category of question I've been getting, which is basically, hang on, could you clarify a few things? And I think this is a good time to do that because things are getting a little complicated. And it's exactly these details and things.
Faith Moore
That will allow us to start to.
Greg
Form theories and start to decide who.
Faith Moore
We can trust and who we can't.
Greg
Plus, it seems very likely that a change is about to happen, right, Because Walter has to leave Wimmeridge and Laura's fiance is about to show up. So this kind of idyllic, quiet country life that they've been living is about to have a big wrench thrown into it in some way or another.
Faith Moore
So.
Greg
So let's just take a minute to take stock of where we stand. So let's start with Kelly's question about Laura and Marian and how they're related. Okay, so Laura and Marian share a mother, but not a father.
Faith Moore
So their mother was first married to.
Greg
A man named Mr. Halcomb. Mr. Halcomb was poor. The mother and Mr. Halcomb had Marian.
Faith Moore
And then Mr. Halcomb died. So then later the mother married a.
Greg
Mr. Fairley, not the Mr. Fairley that we've met, but his brother.
Faith Moore
So Mr. Fairley was rich.
Greg
So the mother and Mr. Fairley had Laura.
Faith Moore
So Marian was raised in a wealthy.
Greg
Home, which is why she has kind of upper class manors, but she's actually.
Faith Moore
Poor, meaning that she has no inheritance.
Greg
And no dowry or anything like that. So then Mr. Fairlie, Laura's father, eventually died. And on his death, his property like Limmeridge House and the estate and everything went clearly to his brother Frederick, who is Laura's uncle, but not related to Marian in any way at all.
Faith Moore
So Frederick Fairley is the Mr. Fairley.
Greg
That we have met. He's also Laura's guardian because Laura is.
Faith Moore
Not yet of age.
Greg
So he's like her de facto father, basically meaning that he can make all the same decisions for her as a father could. Laura and Marian are inseparable because they love each other so much.
Faith Moore
So Marian lives with Laura at her request.
Greg
Laura is going to inherit a large sum of money or something, maybe the estate, we haven't really figured that out yet, but she's going to inherit after Mr. Fairley dies. So she is very rich and upper class.
Faith Moore
So Marian and Laura are half sisters.
Greg
On their mother's side. They love each other very much, but Marian is poor and Laura is rich. Okay, so because Laura is rich, she is engaged to a baronet.
Faith Moore
A baronet is a peer of the.
Greg
Realm, which makes him very high up socially and a good match for Laura. This marriage was arranged by Laura's father before his death, and until Laura fell in love with Walter, she was perfectly happy to comply with her father's wishes, although she isn't in love with her fiance and never has been.
Faith Moore
Marian, on the other hand, has no.
Greg
Marriage prospects because she has no dowry and no family other than Laura. And so it's basically assumed that she will end up an old maid, probably supported, or at least hopefully supported by Laura and her future husband. Walter is decidedly middle class and Mr. Fairley would never approve a marriage between Laura and Walter, even if Laura weren't already engaged, because it would lower Laura significantly in the social hierarchy if she married him. It would have actually been seen as like a disgrace and a scandal to do that. So Mr. Fairlie as her guardian, would never permit it. So Laura's fiance is a man named.
Faith Moore
Sir Percival Glyde, who comes from the.
Greg
Same part of England as Anne Catherick, a place called Hampshire. And Catherick was afraid of a man with the title of baronet, but of.
Faith Moore
Course there are lots of baronets who.
Greg
Come from Hampshire, so this may just be a coincidence. And also we don't necessarily know that Anne's baronet came from the same place that she did. So now Walter is desperately in love with Laura, but he has to leave her forever. Laura is in love with Walter, but can't be with him because she's engaged.
Faith Moore
Laura's fiance, Sir Percival Glyde, is coming.
Greg
To Limmeridge House in a few days.
Faith Moore
And Laura has just received a letter.
Greg
Which is upset her for some reason, so Marian is rushing back to the house to comfort her and Walter is headed back to start packing up his things and he's just gonna wait for the next delivery of the mail before he asks Mr. Fairlie's permission to return to London early. So hopefully that gives us the situation as it currently stands. But please do feel free to write in with more questions because chances are other people are wondering what you're wondering and if it's unique to you, I can just email you about it so that you're not confused. And please do keep telling me your theories and your thoughts and have fun with this.
Faith Moore
The more we get into the story.
Greg
And the more clues and questions that arise, the more potential fun there is to be had. So don't forget to write to me, ask questions, tell me your theories, or just let me know what you're noticing. I want to hear all of it. Faithkmoore.com and click on Contact. And don't forget to check out the link to the membership levels if you're interested in joining us for the tea time next week.
Faith Moore
All right, let's get started with hartright's narrative.
Greg
Chapters 11 through 12 of the Woman.
Faith Moore
In White by Wilkie COLLINS it's story.
Greg
Time.
Faith Moore
11 not a word more was said on either side as we walked back to the house. Ms. Halcombe hastened immediately to her sister's room room and I withdrew to my studio to set in order all of Mr. Fairlie's drawings that I had not yet mounted and restored before I resigned them to the care of other hands, thoughts that I had hitherto restrained, thoughts that made my position harder than ever to endure, crowded on me now that I was alone. She was engaged to be married, and her future husband was Sir Percival Glyde, a man of the rank of baronet and the owner of property in Hampshire. There were hundreds of baronets in England and dozens of landowners in Hampshire. Judging by the ordinary rules of evidence, I had not the shadow of a reason thus far for connecting Sir Percival Glyde with the suspicious words of inquiry that had been spoken to me by the Woman in White, and yet I did connect him with them. Was it because he was now become associated in my mind with Ms. Fairlie? Ms. Fairlie being in her turn associated with Anne Catherick since the night when I had discovered the ominous likeness between them? Had the events of the morning so unnerved me already that I was at the mercy of any delusion which common chances and common coincidences might suggest to my imagination. Impossible to say. I could only feel that what had passed between Miss Halcombe and myself on our way from the summer house had affected me very strangely. So, even though it's not at all likely that Laura's fiance is the baronet that Anne Catherick was afraid of, Walter can't help connecting the two ideas. And thinking that he is the foreboding of some undiscoverable danger lying hid from us all in the darkness of the future was strong on me. The doubt whether I was not linked already to a chain of events which even my approaching departure from Cumberland would be powerless to snap asunder. The doubt whether we, any of us, saw the end as the end would really be gathered more and more darkly over my mind. Poignant as it was, the sense of suffering caused by the miserable end of my brief, presumptuous love seemed to be blunted and deadened by the still stronger sense of something obscurely impending, something invisibly threatening that time was holding over our heads. I had been engaged with the drawings little more than half an hour when there was a knock at the door. It opened on my answering and to my surprise, Miss Halcombe entered the room. Her manner was angry and agitated. She caught up a chair for herself before I could give her one and sat down in it close at my side. Mr. Hartright, she said. I had hoped that painful subjects of conversation were exhausted between us, for to day at least. But it is not to be so. There is some underhand villainy at work to frighten my sister about her approaching marriage. You saw me send the gardener on to the house with a letter addressed in a strange handwriting to Miss Fairlie. Certainly. The letter is an anonymous letter. A vile attempt to injure Sir Percival Glyde, in my sister's estimation. It has so agitated and alarmed her that I have had the greatest possible difficulty in composing her spirit sufficient. Allow me to leave her room and come here. I know this is a family matter on which I ought not to consult you and in which you can feel no concern or interest. I beg your pardon, Ms. Halcomb. I feel the strongest possible concern and interest in anything that affects Ms. Fairlie's happiness or yours. I am glad to hear you say so. You are the only person in the house or out of it who can advise me. Mr. Fairlie, in his state of health and with his horror of difficulties and mysteries of all kinds is not to be thought of. The clergyman is a Good weak man who knows nothing out of the routine of his duties. And our neighbours are just the sort of comfortable jog trot acquaintances whom one cannot disturb in times of trouble and danger. What I want to know is ought I at once to take such steps as I can to discover the writer of the letter or ought I to wait and apply to Mr. Fairlie's legal adviser to Morrow? It is a questionperhaps a very important one of gaining or losing a day. Tell me what you think, Mr. Hartright. If necessity had not already obliged me to take you into my confidence under very delicate circumstances even my helpless situation would perhaps be no excuse for me. But as things are, I cannot surely be wrong after all that has passed between us in forgetting that you are a friend of only three months standing. So someone has written anonymously to Laura to say something bad about Sir Percival Glyde. And Marian has no other man to advise her because Mr. Fairlie is an invalid. So she's coming to Walter for advice. She gave me the letter. It began abruptly without any preliminary form of address as. Do you believe in dreams? I hope for your own sake that you do see what scripture says about dreams and their fulfillment. Genesis, chapter 40, verse 8, chapter 41, verse 25 Daniel, chapter 4, verses 18 through 25. And take the warning I send you before it is too late. Last night I dreamed about you, Ms. Fairley. I dreamed that I was standing inside the communion rails of a church. I on one side of the altar table and the clergyman with his surplice and his prayer book on the other. After a time there walked towards us down the aisle of the church a man and a woman coming to be married. You were the woman. You looked so pretty and innocent in your beautiful white silk dress and your long white lace veil that my heart felt for you. And the tears came into my eyes. They were tears of pity, young lady, that heaven blesses. And instead of falling from my eyes like the everyday tears that we all of us shed they turned into two rays of light which slanted nearer and nearer to the man standing at the altar with you till they touched his breast. The two rays sprang in arches like two rainbows between me and him. I looked along them and I saw down into his inmost heart. The outside of the man you were marrying was fair enough to see. He was neither tall nor short. He was a little below the middle size. A light, active, high spirited man about 5 and 40 years old to look at. He had a pale face and was bald over the forehead head but had dark hair on the rest of his head. His beard was shaven on his chin, but was let to grow of a fine rich brown on his cheeks and upper lip. His eyes were brown too, and very bright. His nose straight and handsome and delicate enough to have done for a woman's. His hands the same. He was troubled from time to time with a dry, hacking cough. And when he put up his white right hand to his mouth, he showed the red scar of an old wound across the back of it. Have I dreamt of the right man? You know best, Ms. Fairlie, and you can say if I was deceived or not. Read next what I saw beneath the outside.
Greg
I entreat you.
Faith Moore
Read and profit. I looked along the two rays of light and I saw down into his inmost heart. It was black as night, and on it were written in the red flaming letters which are the handwriting of the fallen angel. Without pity and without remorse, he has strewn with misery the paths of others. And he will live to strew with misery the path of this woman by his side.
Greg
I read that.
Faith Moore
And then the rays of light shifted and pointed over his shoulder. And there behind him stood a fiend laughing. A fiend is like a demon. And the rays of light shifted once more and pointed over your shoulder. And there behind you stood an angel weeping. And the rays of light shifted for the third time and pointed straight between you and that man. They widened and widened, thrusting you both asunder, one from the other. And the clergyman looked for the marriage service. In vain. It was gone out of the book. And he shut up the leaves and put it from him in despair. And I woke with my eyes full of tears and my heart beating. For I believe in dreams. Believe too, Miss Fairlie, I beg of you, for your own sake, believe as I do. Joseph and Daniel and others in scripture, believed in dreams. Inquire into the past life of that man with the scar on his hand before you say the words that make you his miserable wife. I don't give you this warning on my account, but on yours. I have an interest in your well being that will live as long as I draw breath. Your mother's daughter has a tender place in my heart. For your mother was my first, my best, my only friend. There the extraordinary letter ended without signature of any sort. The handwriting afforded no prospect of a clue. It was traced on ruled lines in the cramped conventional copy book character, technically termed small hand. It was feeble and faint and defaced by blots, but had otherwise nothing to distinguish it. This is not an illiterate letter, said Miss Halcombe. And at the same time, it is surely too incoherent to be the letter of an educated person in the higher ranks of life. The reference to the bridal dress and veil and other little expressions seem to point to it as the production of some woman. What do you think, Mr. Hartright? I think so too. It seems to me to be not only the letter of a woman, but of a woman whose mind must be deranged, suggested Miss Halcombe. It struck me in that light, too. I did not answer. While I was speaking, my eyes rested on the last sentence of the letter. Your mother's daughter has a tender place in my heart. For your mother was my first, worst, my best, my only friend. Those words and the doubt which had just escaped me as to the sanity of the writer of the letter acting together on my mind, suggested an idea which I was literally afraid to express openly or even to encourage. Secretly, I began to doubt whether my own faculties were not in danger of losing their balance. It seemed almost like a monomania to be tracing back everything strange that happened, everything unexpected that was said always to the same hidden source and the same sinister influence. I resolved, this time in defense of my own courage and my own sense, to come to no decision that plain fact did not warrant, and to turn my back resolutely on everything that tempted me in the shape of surmise. So Walter is thinking that the writer could be the woman in white, Anne Catherick. But he's doubting himself because he felt.
Greg
Like everything can't be about Anne Catherick.
Faith Moore
So he's going to try to only believe what is clearly true and not make any guesses. If we have any chance of tracing the person who has written this, I said, returning the letter to Miss Halcombe, there can be no harm in seizing our opportunity the moment it offers. I think we ought to speak to the gardener again about the elderly woman who gave him the letter, and then to continue our inquiries in the village. But first let me ask you a question. You mentioned just now the alternative of consulting Mr. Fairlie's legal adviser tomorrow. Is there no possibility of communicating with him earlier? Why not? To day? I can only explain, replied Miss Halcombe, by entering into certain particulars connected with my sister's marriage engagement, which I did not think it necessary or desirable to mention to you this morning. One of Sir Percival Glyde's objects in coming here on Monday is to fix the period of his marriage which has hitherto been left quite unsettled. He is anxious that the event should take place before the end of the year. Does Ms. Fairlie know of that wish? I asked eagerly. She has no suspicion of it and after what has happened, I shall not take the responsibility upon myself of enlightening her. Sir Percival has only mentioned his views to Mr. Fairlie, who has told me himself that he is ready and anxious as Laura's guardian to forward them. He has written to London to the family solicitor, Mr. Gilmour. Mr. Gilmour happens to be away in Glasgow on business and he has replied by proposing to stop at Limmeridge House on his way back to town. He will arrive to morrow and will stay with us a few days so as to allow Sir Percival time to plead his own cause. If he succeeds, Mr. Gilmour will then return to London taking with him his instructions for my sister's marriage settlement. You understand now, Mr. Hartright, why I speak of waiting to take legal advice until to morrow. Mr. Gilmore is the old and tried friend of two generations of fairlies. And we can trust him him as we could trust no one else. The marriage settlement. The mere hearing of those two words stung me with a jealous despair that was poison to my higher and better instincts. I began to think. It is hard to confess this, but I must suppress nothing from beginning to end of the terrible story that I now stand committed to reveal. I began to think with a hateful eagerness of hope of the vague charges against Sir Percival Glyde which the anonymous letter contained. What if those wild accusations rested on a foundation of truth? What if their truth could be proved before the fatal words of consent were spoken and the marriage settlement was drawn? I have tried to think since that the feeling which then animated me began and ended in pure devotion to Ms. Fairlie's interests. But I have never succeeded in deceiving myself into believing it and I must not now attempt to deceive others. The feeling began and ended in reckless, vindictive, hopeless hatred of the man who was to marry her. If we are to find out anything, I said, speaking under the new influence which was now directing me, we had better not let another minute slip by us unemployed. I can only suggest once more the propriety of questioning the gardener a second time and of inquiring in the village immediately afterwards. I think I may be of help to you in both cases, said Ms. Halcombe, rising. Let us go, Mr. Hartright, at once and do the best we can together. I had the door in my hand to open it for her, but I stopped on a sudden to ask an important question. Before we set forth, one of the paragraphs of the anonymous letter I said contains some sentences of minute personal description. Sir Percival Glydd's name is not mentioned, I know. But does that description at all resemble him accurately, even in stating his age to be 45. 45. And she was not yet 21. Men of his age married wives of her age every day, and experience had shown those marriages to be often the happiest ones. I knew that, and even the mention of his age when I contrasted it with hers added to my blind hatred and distrust of him. Him accurately, Ms. Halcombe continued, even to the scar on his right hand, which is the scar of a wound that he received years since when he was traveling in Italy. There can be no doubt that every peculiarity of his personal appearance is thoroughly well known to the writer of the letter.
Greg
Even a cough that he is troubled.
Faith Moore
With is mentioned, if I remember right. Yes, and mentioned correctly. He treats it lightly himself, though it sometimes makes his friends anxious about him. I suppose no whispers have ever been.
Greg
Heard against his character.
Faith Moore
Mr. Hartright, I hope you were not unjust enough to let that infamous letter influence you. I felt the blood rush into my cheeks, for I knew that it had influenced me. I hope not, I answered confusedly. Perhaps I had no right to ask the question. I am not sorry you asked it, she said, for it enables me to do justice to Sir Percival's reputation. Not a whisper, Mr. Hartright, has ever reached me or my family against him. He has fought successfully two contested elections and has come out of the ordeal unscathed. A man who can do that in England is a man whose character is established. I opened the door for her in silence and followed her out. She had not convinced me. If the recording angel had come down from heaven to confirm her and had opened his book to my mortal eyes, the recording angel would not have convinced me. We found the gardener at work as usual. No amount of questioning could extract a single answer of any importance from the lad's impenetrable stupidity. The woman who had given him the letter was an elderly woman. She had not spoken a word to him and she had gone away towards the south in a great hurry. That was all the gardener could tell us. The village lay southward of the house, so to the village we went. Next 12 our inquiries at Limmeridge were patiently pursued in all directions and among all sorts and conditions of people, but nothing came of them. Three of the villagers did certainly assure us that they had seen the woman. Woman. But as they were quite unable to describe her and quite incapable of agreeing about the exact direction in which she was proceeding when they last saw her. These three bright exceptions to the general rule of total ignorance afforded no more real assistance to us than the mass of their unhelpful and unobservant neighbors. The course of our useless investigations brought us in time to the end of the village at which the schools established by Mrs. Fairlie were situated. As we passed the side of the building appropriated to the use of the boys, I suggested the propriety of making a last inquiry of the schoolmaster, whom we might presume to be, in virtue of his office, the most intelligent man in the place. I am afraid the schoolmaster must have been occupied with his scholars, said Ms. Halcombe, just at the time when the woman passed through the village and returned again. However, we can but try. We entered the playground enclosure and walked by the schoolroom window to get round to the door which was situated at the back of the building. I stopped for a moment at the window and looked in. The schoolmaster was sitting at his high desk with his back to me, apparently haranguing the pupils who were all gathered together in front of him. With one exception. The one exception was a sturdy white headed boy standing apart from all the rest on a stool in a corner. A forlorn little Crusoe, isolated in his own desert island of solitary penal disgrace. The door, when we got round to it, was ajar, and the schoolmaster's voice reached us plainly as we both stopped for a minute under the porch. Now, boys, said the voice, mind what I tell you. If I hear another word spoken about ghosts in this school, it will be the worse for all of you. There are no such things as ghosts.
Greg
And therefore any boy who believes in.
Faith Moore
Ghosts believes in what can't possibly be. And a boy who belongs to Limmeridge School and believes in what can't possibly be sets up his back against reason and discipline and must be punished accordingly. You all see Jacob Postlethwaite standing up on the stool there in disgrace. He has been punished not because he said he saw a ghost last night, but because he is too impudent and too obstinate to listen to reason, and because he persists in saying he saw the ghost after I have told him that no such thing can possibly be. If nothing else will do, I mean.
Greg
To cane the ghost out of Jacob.
Faith Moore
Postlethwaite, and if the thing spreads among any of the rest of you, I mean to go a step farther and cane the ghost out of the whole school. We seem to have chosen an awkward Moment for our visit, it said Miss.
Greg
Halcombe, pushing open the door at the.
Faith Moore
End of the schoolmaster's address and leading the way in. Our appearance produced a strong sensation among the boys. They appeared to think that we had arrived for the express purpose of seeing Jacob Postlethwaite caned. Go home, all of you, to your dinner, said the schoolmaster, except Jacob. Jacob must stop where he is, and the ghost may bring him his dinner.
Greg
If the ghost pleases.
Faith Moore
Jacob's fortitude deserted him at the double disappearance of his schoolfellows and his prospect of dinner. He took his hands out of his pockets, looked hard at his knuckles, raised them with great deliberation to his eyes, and when they got there, ground them round and round slowly, accompanying the action by short spasms of sniffing, which followed each other at regular intervals, the nasal minute guns of juvenile distress. We came here to ask you a question, Mr. Dempster, said Ms. Halcombe, addressing the schoolmaster, and we little expected to find you occupied in exorcising a ghost. What does it all mean? What has really happened? That wicked boy has been frightening the whole school, Miss Halcombe, by declaring that.
Greg
He saw a ghost yesterday evening, answered.
Faith Moore
The master, and he still persists in his absurd story, in spite of all that I can say to him.
Greg
Him.
Faith Moore
Most extraordinary, said Miss Halcombe, I should not have thought it possible that any of the boys had imagination enough to see a ghost.
Greg
This is a new accession indeed, in.
Faith Moore
The hard labor of forming the youthful mind at Limmeridge, and I heartily wish you well through it, Mr. Dempster. In the meantime, let me explain why you see me here and what it is I want. She then put the same question to the schoolmaster, which we had asked already of almost every one else in the village. It was met by the same discouraging answer. Mr. Dempster had not set eyes on the stranger of whom we were in search. We may as well return to the house, Mr. Hartright, said Ms. Halcombe. The information we want is evidently not to be found. She had bowed to Mr. Dempster and was about to leave the schoolroom, when the forlorn position of Jacob Postlethwaite piteously sniffing on the stool of penitence attracted her attention as she passed him him and made her stop good humouredly to speak a word to the little prisoner before she opened the door. You foolish boy, she said. Why don't you beg Mr. Dempster's pardon and hold your tongue about the ghost, eh?
Greg
But I saw de caste. Meaning?
Faith Moore
But I saw the ghost Persisted Jacob Postlethwaite, with a stare of terror and a burst of tears. Stuff and nonsense. You saw nothing of the kind. Ghost, indeed.
Greg
What?
Faith Moore
I beg your pardon, Miss Halcombe, interposed the schoolmaster, a little uneasily, but I think you had better not question the boy. The obstinate folly of his story is beyond all belief, and you might lead him into ignorantlyignorantly. What? Inquired Miss Halcombe sharply, ignorantly. Shocking your feelings, said Mr. Dempster, looking.
Greg
Very much discomposed upon.
Faith Moore
My word, Mr. Dempster, you pay my feelings a great compliment in thinking them.
Greg
Weak enough to be shocked by such.
Faith Moore
An urchin as that. She turned with an air of satirical defiance to little Jacob and began to question him directly.
Greg
Come, she said, I mean to know.
Faith Moore
All about this, you naughty boy. When did you see the ghost? Yesterean, at the gloaming. Oh, you saw it yesterday evening in the twilight. And what was it like, Arlen? White as a ghaist should be, answered.
Greg
The ghost seer with a confidence beyond his years.
Faith Moore
And where was it? Away yonder, in the kirkyard, where a ghost ought to be. So he saw it in the churchyard.
Greg
Where he says a ghost ought to.
Faith Moore
Be, As a ghaist should be. Where a ghaist ought to be. Why, you little fool, you talk as if the manners and customs of ghosts had been familiar to you from your infancy. You have got your story at your fingers ends at any rate. I suppose I shall hear next that.
Greg
You can actually tell me whose ghost it was, eh? But I can, replied Jacob, nodding his.
Faith Moore
Head with an air of gloomy triumph. Mr. Dempster had already tried several times to speak while Miss Halcombe was examining his pupil, and he now interposed resolutely enough to make himself heard. Excuse me, Miss Halcombe, he said, if I venture to say that you are only encouraging the boy by asking him these questions. I will merely ask one more, Mr.
Greg
Dempster, and then I shall be quite satisfied.
Faith Moore
Well, she continued, turning to the boy, and whose ghost was it? T ghaist of Mistress Fairlie, answered Jacob in a whisper. So he saying, it's the ghost of Marian, Laura's mother. The effect which this extraordinary reply produced on Miss Halcombe fully justified the anxiety which the schoolmaster had shown to prevent her from hearing it. It her face crimsoned with indignation, she turned upon little Jacob with an angry suddenness which terrified him into a fresh burst of tears, opened her lips to speak to him, then controlled herself and addressed the master instead of the boy. It is Useless, she said, to hold such a child as that responsible for what he says. I have little doubt that the idea has been put into his head by others. If there are people in this village, Mr. Dempster, who have forgotten the respect and gratitude due from every soul in it to my mother' summary, I will find them out. And if I have any influence with Mr. Fairlie, they shall suffer for it. I hope. Indeed, I am sure, Miss Halcombe, that you are mistaken, said the schoolmaster. The matter begins and ends with the boy's own perversity and folly. He saw, or thought he saw, a woman in white yesterday evening as he was passing the churchyard. And the figure, real or fancied, was standing by the marble cross which he and everyone else in Limmeridge knows to be the monument over Mrs. Fairlie's grave. These two circumstances are surely sufficient to have suggested to the boy himself the answer which has so naturally shocked you. Although Miss Halcombe did not seem to be convinced, she evidently felt that the schoolmaster's statement of the case was too sensible to be openly combated. She merely replied by thanking him for his attention and by promising to see him again when her doubts were satisfied. This said, she bowed and led the.
Greg
Way out of the schoolroom.
Faith Moore
Throughout the whole of this strange scene I had stood apart, listening attentively and drawing my own conclusions. As soon as we were alone again, Miss Halcombe asked me if I had formed any opinion on what I had heard. A very strong opinion, I answered. The boy's story, as I believe, has a foundation. In fact, I confess I am anxious to see the monument over Mrs. Fairlie's grave.
Greg
Grave?
Faith Moore
And to examine the ground about it.
Greg
You shall see the grave.
Faith Moore
She paused after making that reply and reflected a little as we walked on. What has happened in the schoolroom, she resumed, has so completely distracted my attention from the subject of the letter that I feel a little bewildered when I try to return to it. Must we give up all idea of making any further inquiries and wait to place the thing in Mr. Gilmore's hands to Morrow? By no means, Miss Halcombe. What has happened in the schoolroom encourages me to persevere in the investigation.
Greg
Why does it encourage you?
Faith Moore
Because it strengthens a suspicion I felt when you gave me the letter to read. I suppose you had your reasons, Mr. Hartright, for concealing that suspicion from me till this moment. I was afraid to encourage it in myself. I thought it was utterly preposterous. I distrusted it as the result of some perversity in my own imagination. But I can do so no longer. Not only the boy's own answers to your questions, but even a chance expression that dropped from the schoolmaster's lips in explaining his story, have forced the idea back into my mind. Events may yet prove that idea to be a delusion, Miss Halcombe, but the belief is strong in me at this moment that the fancied ghost in the churchyard and the writer of the anonymous letter are one and the same person. She stopped, turned pale, and looked me eagerly in the face. What person? The schoolmaster unconsciously told you when he spoke of the figure that the boy saw in the churchyard, he called it a woman in white. Not Anne Catherick? Yes, Anne Catharic. She put her hand through my arm and leaned on it heavily. I don't know why, she said in low tones, but there is something in this suspicion of yours that seems to startle and unnerve me. I feel. She stopped and tried to laugh it off. Mr. Hartright, she went on, I will show you the grave and then go back at once to the house. I had better not leave Laura too long alone. I had better go back and sit with her. We were close to the churchyard when she spoke. The church, a dreary building of gray stone, was situated in a little valley so as to be sheltered from the bleak winds blowing over the moorland all round it. The burial ground advanced from the side of the church a little way up the slope of the hill. It was surrounded by a rough, low stone wall and was bare and open to the sky, except at one extremity, where a brook trickled down the stony hillside and a clump of dwarf trees threw their narrow shadows over the short, meagre grass. Just beyond the brook and the trees, and not far from one of the three stone stiles which afforded entrance at various points to the churchyard, rose the white marble cross that distinguished Mrs. Fairlie's grave from the humbler monuments scattered about it. I need go no farther with you, you, said Miss Halcombe, pointing to the grave. You will let me know if you find anything to confirm the idea you have just mentioned to me. Let us meet again at the house she left me. I descended at once to the churchyard and crossed the stile which led directly to Mrs. Fairlie's grave. The grass about it was too short and the ground too hard to show any marks of footsteps. Disappointed thus far, I next looked attentively at the cross and at the square block of marble below it on which the inscription was cut. The natural whiteness of the cross was A little clouded here and there by weather stains, and rather more than one half of the square block beneath it on the side which bore the inscription was in the same condition. The other half, however, attracted my attention at once by its singular freedom from stain or impurity of any kind. I looked closer and saw that it had been cleaned recently, cleaned in a downward direction from top to bottom. The boundary line between the part that had been cleaned and the part that had not was traceable wherever the inscription left a blank space of marble, sharply traceable as a line that had been produced by artificial means. Who had begun the cleansing of the marble and who had left it unfinished. I looked about me, wondering how the question was to be solved. No sign of a habitation could be discerned from the point at which I was standing. The burial ground was left in the lonely possession of the dead. I returned to the church and walked round it till I came to the back of the building, then crossed the boundary wall beyond by another of the stone stiles and found myself at the head of a path leading down into a deserted stone quarry. Against one side of the quarry a little two room cottage was built, and just outside the door an old woman was engaged in Washington. I walked up to her and entered into conversation about the church and burial ground. She was ready enough to talk, and almost the first words she said informed me that her husband filled the two offices of clerk and sexton, meaning her husband looks after the church building and the grounds and keeps its records. I said a few words next in praise of Mrs. Fairlie's monument. The old woman shook her head and told me I had not seen it at its best. It was her husband's business to look after it, but he had been so ailing and weak for months and months past that he had hardly been able to crawl into church on Sundays to do his duty, and the monument had been neglected in consequence. He was getting a little better now, and in a week or 10 days time he hoped to be strong enough to set to work and clean it. This information, extracted from a long rambling answer in the broadest Cumberland dialect, told me all that I most wanted to know. I gave the poor woman a trifle and returned at once to Limmeridge House. The partial cleansing of the monument had evidently been accomplished by a strange hand, meaning not the man who's supposed to do it, but someone else's. Connecting what I had discovered thus far with what I had suspected after hearing the story of the ghosts seen at twilight. I wanted nothing more to confirm my resolution to watch Mrs. Fairlie's grave in secret that evening, returning to it at sunset and waiting within sight of it till the night fell. The work of cleansing the monument had been left unfinished, and the person by whom it had been begun might return to complete it. So Walter is planning to come back at night and watch the grave to see if the person who started to clean it will come back and finish the job. On getting back to the house, I informed Miss Halcombe of what I intended to do. She looked surprised and uneasy while I was explaining my purpose, but she made no positive objection to the execution of it. She only said, I hope it may end well. Just as she was leaving me again, I stopped her to inquire as calmly as I could after Miss Fairlie's health. She was in better spirits, and Miss Halcombe hoped she might be induced to take a little walking exercise while the afternoon sun lasted. I returned to my own room to resume setting the drawings in order. It was necessary to do this, and doubly necessary to keep my mind employed on anything that would help to distract my attention from myself and from the hopeless future that lay before me.
Greg
From time to time I paused in.
Faith Moore
My work to look out of window and watch the sky as the sun sank nearer and nearer to the horizon. On one of those occasions I saw a figure on the broad gravel walk under my window. It was Miss Fairlie. I had not seen her since the morning and I had hardly spoken to her then. Another day at Limmeridge was all that remained to me, and after that day my eyes might never look on her again. This thought was enough to hold me at the window. I had sufficient consideration for her to arrange the blind so that she might not see me if she looked up. But I had no strength to resist the temptation of letting my eyes at least follow her as far as they could on her walk. She was dressed in a brown cloak with a plain black silk gown under it. On her head was the same simple straw hat which she had worn on the morning when we first met. A veil was attached to it now, which hid her face from me. By her side trotted a little Italian greyhound, the pet companion of all her walks, smartly dressed in a scarlet cloth wrapper to keep the sharp air from his delicate its skin. She did not seem to notice the dog. She walked straight forward with her head drooping a little and her arms folded in her cloak. The dead leaves which had whirled in the wind before me when I had heard of her marriage engagement in the morning, whirled in the wind before her, and rose and fell and scattered themselves at her feet as she walked on in the pale, waning sunlight. The dog shivered and trembled and pressed against her dress impatiently for notice and encouragement, but she never heeded him. She walked on farther and farther away from me, with the dead leaves whirling about her on the path, walked on till my aching eyes could see her no more, and I was left alone again with my own heavy heart. In an hour's time I had done my work and the sunset was at hand. I got my hat and coat in the hall and slipped out of the house without meeting anyone. 1 the clouds were wild in the western heaven, and the wind blew chill from the sea far as the shore was. The sound of the surf swept over the intervening moorland and beat drearily in my ears. When I entered the churchyard, not a living creature was in sight. The place looked lonelier than ever as I chose my position and waited and watched with my eyes on the white cross that rose over Mrs. Fairley's grave. Thank you so much for listening. I'd love to know what you thought of the chapters. Is there anything you'd like me to clarify? Did something particularly interest you? Please go to my website, faithkmoore.com, click on Contact and send me your questions and thoughts. Or you can click on the link in the Show Notes to contact me me. I'll feature one or two of your entries at the start of the next episode. Speaking of links, don't forget to take a look at the other links in the Show Notes. You can learn more about me, check out our merch store or pick up one of my books. Before I go, I'd like to ask a quick favor. This is an independent podcast. It's produced, recorded and marketed by me, so I need your help. Spread the word about the show by posting about it on social media or texting a link to your friends. Subscribe, tap those five stars and leave a positive review wherever you're listening. If you are able to support the show financially, there's a link in the Show Notes to make a donation. I would really, really appreciate it. Alright everyone, story time is over. To be continued.
Storytime for Grownups: "The Woman in White: Hartright 11-12"
Release Date: January 23, 2025
Welcome to another immersive episode of Storytime for Grownups, hosted by Faith Moore. In this episode, Faith and co-host Greg delve into chapters 11 and 12 of Wilkie Collins' classic novel, "The Woman in White". This detailed summary captures the essence of their discussion, key plot developments, character analyses, and insightful commentary, enriched with notable quotes and timestamps to guide you through the narrative.
Faith Moore sets the stage for the episode by reminding listeners of the podcast's unique format—an audiobook experience with integrated notes. She invites listeners to cozy up with a cup of tea and prepare for an engaging storytelling session.
Faith Moore [00:00]: "Storytime for Grownups is like an audiobook with built-in notes. So brew a pot of tea, find a cozy chair, and settle in. It’s story time."
Faith and Greg express their enthusiasm for the ongoing reading of "The Woman in White", highlighting the blend of suspense and humor that makes the novel captivating.
Greg [01:36]: "This book is also funny. The funny helps it be fun instead of just dark and suspenseful."
They discuss the surge in listener engagement, receiving numerous letters that range from seeking clarifications to sharing personal theories about the unfolding mystery.
Greg [02:28]: "I've been getting so many great letters. It feels like things are locking in now."
The hosts tackle two main categories of listener emails:
Clarification Questions: Example from Kelly Russo seeking to understand the relationship between Ms. Fairlie and Ms. Halcombe.
Greg [07:20]: "Kelly writes, I was wondering if you could clear up in my head how Ms. Fairlie and Ms. Halcombe are related."
Faith and Greg provide a comprehensive explanation of the characters' familial ties, clarifying that Laura and Marian are half-sisters sharing the same mother.
Theoretical Insights: Greg shares his own speculative theories about the mystery's progression, encouraging listeners to form and share their own hypotheses without revealing specific details to avoid spoilers.
Greg [07:43]: "I'm on team weekly installment, meaning I'm on the team of waiting, not reading ahead in the book."
Faith and Greg provide a succinct recap of the events leading up to chapters 11-12, ensuring that even new listeners are up to speed.
Faith Moore [05:49]: "Walter discovers that he has fallen in love with Laura Fairley against all his better judgment."
They outline the social dynamics and impending tensions, such as Laura's engagement to Sir Percival Glyde and Walter's dilemma in leaving Lynbridge House.
The heart of the episode centers on the intricate developments within chapters 11 and 12, where mysteries deepen, and suspicions arise.
Walter Hartright grapples with an anonymous letter that casts doubts on Sir Percival Glyde, Laura's fiancé.
Greg [09:17]: "We should be wondering if this strange detail means something or if that strange comment is actually the key to the case."
Faith and Greg dissect Walter's internal conflict, emphasizing his struggle to balance logic with the unsettling feelings provoked by the letter.
The narrative introduces a subplot involving Jacob Postlethwaite, a boy from Limmeridge School, who claims to have seen a ghost—specifically the ghost of Mistress Fairlie, Laura's mother.
Greg [39:47]: "Mr. Dempster had not set eyes on the stranger of whom we were in search."
Faith and Greg analyze the significance of these sightings, pondering their connection to the overarching mystery and Sir Percival Glyde's true intentions.
Determined to uncover the truth, Walter decides to surveil Mrs. Fairlie's grave, suspecting that the partial cleaning of her monument is a deliberate act tied to the unfolding mystery.
Faith Moore [47:16]: "She walked on till my aching eyes could see her no more, and I was left alone again with my own heavy heart."
The hosts highlight Walter's resolve and the eerie atmosphere surrounding the churchyard, setting the stage for further suspense.
Faith and Greg delve into character motivations and the novel's themes, emphasizing the delicate balance between emotional engagement and rational deduction.
Greg [10:02]: "We are supposed to be thinking in the back of our mind, what is going on here?"
They commend the portrayal of Walter Hartright as an upstanding, morally sound protagonist, contrasting him with the enigmatic Sir Percival Glyde. Marian Halcombe's resilience and unwavering support for Laura are also spotlighted, reinforcing the novel's exploration of loyalty and social constraints.
Throughout the episode, Faith and Greg provide thoughtful commentary on narrative techniques and character development, encouraging listeners to engage deeply with the text.
Greg [13:26]: "So for now I'm going to like her. It's the same for me with Laura Fairley."
They stress the importance of not overanalyzing to the point of missing the story's emotional core, advocating for a balanced approach to mystery-solving within the narrative.
As chapters 11-12 conclude, Faith and Greg discuss their plans to investigate further, maintaining suspense and anticipation for future episodes. They reiterate the importance of listener participation, inviting emails, theories, and reviews to enrich the communal reading experience.
Faith Moore [19:27]: "Alright everyone, story time is over. To be continued."
Greg on Humor in the Novel [01:36]:
"This book is also funny. The funny helps it be fun instead of just dark and suspenseful."
Faith Encouraging Listener Engagement [09:32]:
"I don't want to tell you whether you're right or wrong when you email me your guesses. That would spoil the book for you."
Greg on Maintaining Emotional Connection [10:49]:
"Remember, this is a story, not an actual police case."
Marian Halcombe on Sir Percival Glyde [17:50]:
"Sir Percival Glyde, who comes from the same part of England as Anne Catherick."
This episode of Storytime for Grownups masterfully intertwines Faith and Greg's insightful discussions with a deep exploration of Wilkie Collins' "The Woman in White". By addressing listener questions, dissecting character motivations, and unraveling plot intricacies, they offer a rich and engaging listening experience that both honors the classic literature and invites contemporary reflection.
For those eager to continue the journey, tune in to the next episode as Faith and Greg delve deeper into the mysteries that envelop Limmeridge House and its inhabitants.