时间：<2020-06-05 17:08:13 作者：D3锦上添花高手坛acR 浏览量：9777
The policeman had passed out of sight now. Like a flash the man in evening dress was upon the form of the unconscious capitalist. He was picked up as if he had been a feather-weight. An instant later and he was back at No. 1, Lytton Avenue, again.
"It will not be for long, dearest," he whispered. "Courage, darling."
"We won't discuss it, dearest," she said. "The mere idea of your guilt is absurd to any one who knows you. I cannot realize it yet, the whole thing is so terribly mixed up and involved. The one man to get to the bottom of things is Gilbert Lawrence. The police will see nothing here beyond a mere vulgar crime. My uncle Gilbert will bring a novelist's imagination to work on it, And, whatever happens, there will be one person who believes implicitly in you."A dirty, grimy figure emerged, as unlike the dashing, brilliant Countess Lalage as could be well imagined. Her face was white and drawn, but nothing could dim the fire and flash of those wonderful dark eyes.
"Precisely. But not quite in the way you imagine. Directly Maitrank saw those deeds he knew exactly what had happened. But that wonderful man did not betray himself. His confidential secretary told me that he never turned a hair. He simply regretted that he had no spare capital; he got a warrant for your arrest, and he will be in London tomorrow morning."
"Pursue a policy of masterly inactivity," Lawrence suggested after a thoughtful pause. "Say nothing for the present. The matter has not been brought before you officially yet. There will be an inquest, which will only last a few minutes, for the simple reason that the police will ask for an adjournment. Meanwhile I will go and have a chat with the man who has the case in hand. If the time comes when you must speak, why speak, of course."
"Children and dogs never bore me," he said. "I wish I had a garden like yours. Pleasant perfumes always stimulate the imagination. Did you ever notice how the smell of certain flowers recalls vivid recollections?"For the life of him Bruce could not say. It was absurd to suppose that by some mistake the Bank of England had issued two sets of notes of the same series of numbers. There was no mistake about the murdered man's letter either.
"Between midnight and a quarter past," he muttered. "That's about the time. We had better creep a little closer to the window. That's one advantage of being in a house in the dark--you can see everything that is going on outside without being spotted by anybody. Come along and see what you shall see."
She was conscious of no feeling of astonishment. At every turn she seemed to be brought into contact with the central figures of the Corner House tragedy. A sudden inspiration came to her."For me?" Bruce asked.
A snarling curse came from Balmayne's lips.The doctor slipped off his dress-coat and turned up his sleeves. In a prim sort of way his fair attendant took the coat away and hung it up carefully in the dim recesses of a big cupboard at the far side of the room. With great care and patience Bruce contrived to coax a quantity of the hideous mixture of mustard and water down the unconscious man's throat.