Explore "The Great Portrait Mystery" by R. Austin Freeman on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
THE Isle of Thanet has a certain peculiar charm which lingers even to this day, despite the too-successful efforts of the speculative builder to annihilate it. A few years ago -- at the date of this history, for instance -- before the unlovely suburban streets had arisen to disfigure it, the north-eastern quarter of the island wore a pleasant air of remoteness that disguised its proximity to busy Margate and prosperous Broadstairs. It was in this quarter that the business of our adventurers lay, and, having risen with the lark and been fortunate in the matter of trains, they reached it quite early in the day.
"Ah! " exclaimed Fittleworth, sniffing the salt air with the joy of an escaped Londoner, as they left the outskirts of Margate behind, and took their way along the broad path by the cliff's edge; "your worthy ancestor wasn't such a bad judge, Katie. I shouldn't mind living here myself. By the way, I suppose there is no chance of your tenant objecting to our looking over the house?"