Explore "Mr. Marx's Secret" by E. Phillips Oppenheim on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It was generally expected that my mother would be anxious to depart as soon as possible from a neighbourhood which had such terrible associations for her. As a matter of fact, she showed no intention of doing anything of the sort. At the time I rather wondered at this, but I am able now to divine her reason.
It chanced that the farm, of which my father had been tenant for nearly a quarter of a century, was taken by a neighbour who had no use for the house, and so it was arranged that we should stay on at a merely nominal rent. Then began a chapter of my life without event, which I can pass rapidly over.