She counted all her cards again before sending Mary up to Mr. Doran’s room to say that she wished to speak with him.
Amazing how she treats this like a game of cards, as she considers her favorable odds of successfully marrying off her daughter
She counted all her cards again before sending Mary up to Mr. Doran’s room to say that she wished to speak with him.
Amazing how she treats this like a game of cards, as she considers her favorable odds of successfully marrying off her daughter
He could not make up his mind whether to like her or despise her for what she had done. Of course he had done it too.
Interesting way of looking at it - something she had done and he had done too, rather than something they did together
She arranged in her mind all she was going to do and thought how much better it was to be independent and to have your own money in your pocket.
I wonder what exactly being "independent" means to her - independent from what?
“Mamma is mamma but Maria is my proper mother.”
That is such a strong statement! In the contexts it is meant to show the depth of his connection to Maria, but it can easily be interpreted as a rejection of his biological mother
She hoped they would have a nice evening. She was sure they would but she could not help thinking what a pity it was Alphy and Joe were not speaking.
There is an interesting ambivalence reflected in the contrast between these sentences: is she hoping it will be a nice evening, or sure it will be? Does the fact that Alphy and Joe aren't speaking limit how nice the evening can be for her?
Is this the conduct that might have been expected from a man placed in my horrible position?
This is a fairly strange reaction. If he knows he did not steel the Moonstone, wouldn't the logical inference be that someone else wore his nightgown, either incidentally or in an attempt to frame him? Instead, he presents himself as perplexed and puzzled to discover himself as the thief
Rosanna’s mysterious employment of the night-time with her door locked, and her candle burning till the morning–Rosanna’s suspicious purchase of the japanned tin case, and the two dog’s chains from Mrs. Yolland–the Sergeant’s positive conviction that Rosanna had hidden something at the Shivering Sand, and the Sergeant’s absolute ignorance as to what that something might be
Since the novel was originally serialized, perhaps this recap is meant as a kind of "in the previous episodes..." reminder?
The loss of their second chance of seizing the Diamond is mainly attributable, as I think, to the cunning and foresight of Mr. Luker–who doesn’t stand at the top of the prosperous and ancient profession of usury for nothing!
I was wondering if Mr. Luker might be Jewish - his descriptions (e.g. as a "wretched creature") and depiction as a greedy usurer certainly fit with some anti-Semitic stereotypes. I googled the name - turns out "Luker" is idiomatic Australian english for "money"!
he most irresistible smile I have ever seen on a woman’s face
Rachel in the eyes of Mr. Bruff is more similar to the character we know from Beteredge's narrative than to the one described by Clack (a different construction perhaps?)
In a woman it has a serious drawback of morally separating her from the mass of her sex, and so exposing her to misconstruction by the general opinion.
Interesting that the word "misconstruction" is repeated twice so closely in the text in reference to Rachel (once in a direct quote by her and once by Mr. Bruff). Could serve to highlight that her very character is being constructed by outside observers, rather than objectively perceived.
She approached dear Mr. Godfrey at a most unladylike rate of speed, with her hair shockingly untidy, and her face, what I should call, unbecomingly flushed.
Clearly, our narrator is jealous of Miss Verinder, which may bias her account.
The heavenly gentleness of his smile made his apologies irresistible. The richness of his deep voice added its own indescribable charm to the interesting business question which he had just addressed to me.
We are used to reading such descriptions about women; perhaps the bias was of the male narrator, rather than the author.
“Remember what the doctor told you, Rachel, about quieting yourself with a book after taking your meals.”
Interesting medical advice. I wonder what the doctor diagnosed - medicine was more art than science at the time, and it appears that the distinction between psychiatry and medicine wasn't really a. thing.
(who forgives Mr. Blake for insulting her)
The introduction is somewhat surprising considering the text is addressed from the narrator to Mr. Blake. This parenthetical acknowledgment of her forgiveness is perhaps meant to mitigate the somewhat aggressive nature of the text, or, from the authors perspective, to make it more realistic.
For once in his life, the great Cuff stood speechless with amazement, like an ordinary man.
Both here, and previously when he "looked back like a lamb" at Betteredge, I suspect the narrator is projecting his own feelings; from everything else we know about the Sergeant, it appears unlikely he would be flustered by such displays.
I am an average good Christian, when you don’t push my Christianity too far
This passages marks the first time Betteredge exercises his signature humor since the tragic discovery of Rosanna's death.
People in high life have all the luxuries to themselves–among others, the luxury of indulging their feelings. People in low life have no such privilege. Necessity, which spares our betters, has no pity on us. We learn to put our feelings back into ourselves, and to jog on with our duties as patiently as may be. I don’t complain of this–I only notice it.
Betteredge has previously remarked on differences between the upper class and its servants, usually in a more humorous light. Here we have a solemn observation on the emotional labor required of the working class.
The poor girl can’t help being ugly–I felt that, at the time.
The male characters' obsession with how Rosanna is "ugly" and cruelty about it never ceases to amaze me
(in his dismal, underground way)
The adjectives Betteredge uses to describe the Sergeant appear to be escalating in their negativity (could be investigated computationally).
(Why he should have chosen the exact moment when I was deceiving him to give me that proof of his good opinion, is beyond all comprehension! I felt a little proud–I really did feel a little proud of having been one too many at last for the celebrated Cuff!)
Did Betteredge really succeed in deceiving the Sergeant, or is the Sergeant flattering him to get him to tell the truth?
He laid the washing-book on the table, and taking out his penknife, began to trim his nails.
The sergeant's nonchalance here evokes the trope of the wise detective, which may have seen it's start here.
The man who doesn’t believe in Robinson Crusoe, after that, is a man with a screw loose in his understanding, or a man lost in the mist of his own self-conceit!
Here, more explicitly than before, we see the religious qualities Betteredge ascribes to Robinson Crusoe as a text - "believe in Robinson Crusoe"
in my part of the story, at any rate
Who is he addressing this to? Readers of the novel, which also includes other narrator? This would seem (to me) unusual for the time, so I wonder what the context is
The Devil (or the Diamond) possessed that dinner-party; and it was a relief to everybody when my mistress rose, and gave the ladies the signal to leave the gentlemen over their wine.
Even though he constantly tried to downplay his belief in the superstitious, it seems that Betteredge does ascribe the Moonstone sueprnatural powers.
The facts here are really so extraordinary, that I doubt if I can trust my own language to do justice to them. I prefer trying to report Mr. Franklin’s discoveries, as nearly as may be, in Mr. Franklin’s own words.
Interesting switch to direct speech without breaking the narration, presumably meant to transport the readers to the scene.
I wonder whether the gentlemen who make a business and a living out of writing books, ever find their own selves getting in the way of their subjects, like me?
I wonder if this whole passage is somehow self-referential and a reference to how multiple times so far, the narrator announces they'll be discussing one topic and then abruptly shift to another.
I am not superstitious; I have read a heap of books in my time; I am a scholar in my own way.
It is interesting how Betteredge professes not to believe in the superstitious in the first sentence immediately following his insinuation that he had experienced a prophecy. Perhaps this is meant to circumvent the readers' own skepticism.