sweetman

I had spent all my life at school, from the day when my father and mother kissed me for the last time in Miss Sweetman's parlour.

But Miss Sweetman was busy, and only puckered up her mouth and ordered me back to my seat.

Outside the house of Frederick Wingate two men stood talking; he saw, with surprise, that one of them was Mr. Sweetman.

Mr. Sweetman cried something inarticulate and plunged for the porch.

You and Sweetman thought it was the beating of a human heart.