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Updated: May 10, 2025
No doubt it was taken from a wreck, like so much of the furniture in old Cornish houses." "You seem to know a lot about old clocks." Mr. Brimsdown, astride his favourite hobby, rode it irresistibly. He discoursed of clocks and their makers, and Barrant listened in silence.
"It had to do with his marriage and his daughter's legitimacy," he slowly replied. "Surely my sister imparted this to the Penzance police inspector, when she besought his assistance?" "I know nothing about it," replied Barrant quickly and emphatically. "I shall be glad if you will tell me." "Certainly." Austin Turold related the story of his brother's disclosure closure.
Austin Turold took off his glasses, and posed himself in an attitude of expectation, with his eyes fixed upon the detective's face. Barrant eyed the elder man with a puzzled curiosity which was tolerably masked by official impassivity. Barrant had his own methods of investigation and inquiry. He brought an alert intelligence, a seeing eye, and a false geniality to bear in his work.
The little grey woman at the table was seated in the same posture as Barrant had last seen her, her hands crossed in front of her, her head bent. She glanced up listlessly as they entered. Barrant crossed the room, and touched her arm. She shook in a pitiful little flurry of fear, then became motionless again. "Mrs.
Barrant had returned with a feeling of irritation against the mischances of events which had brought an important piece of evidence to light after his departure for London.
A point of light, falling through the shattered panel of the closed door, pierced the vague gloom of the passage and hovered on the door of the bedroom opposite the room into which the dead man had been carried. Barrant entered the study and looked around him. It was intolerably dirty and neglected; everything was covered with a thick grey dust.
The study on the right, the bedroom opposite." "Very well. You need not come any further." The old man's eyes travelled slowly upward to' the detective's face, but he kept his ground. "Did you hear me?" Barrant asked sharply. "You can go downstairs again." Again the other's eyes sought his face with a brooding contemplative look.
She was overwhelmed by the shock of her niece's disappearance, and the terrible interpretation Barrant evidently placed upon it. But Barrant was in no mood to allow for her confused state of mind. "You had better try and remember," he said irritably. "It seems to me that I've been kept in the dark.
Her eyes returned to his. She shook her head with a rapid tremulous motion. "No!" she exclaimed excitedly. "One, only one!" Barrant cast another glance at his watch, which he Still held in his hand. "You are quite sure you did not play two?" he persisted, with a puzzled glance. "No, no one!" She sprang to her feet excitedly. "Very well one," acquiesced Barrant soothingly. "One. Go on."
His harsh features were set in a stern upward frown, and the lower lip was slightly caught between the teeth, as though bitten in the final rending of the spirit. But Barrant had seen too much of violent death to be repelled by any death mask, however repellent. He eyed the corpse closely, and then proceeded to examine the death wound.
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