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Updated: May 9, 2025
"See here, my girl," he said sharply, "you must not behave in this fashion. I have reason to believe that the assassin of Mr. Vrain entered the house through the premises of your mistress." "Lawks, what a 'orrible idear!" shrieked Mrs. Bensusan. "Good 'eavens, Rhoda, did you see the murdering villain?" "Me? No! I never sawr nothing, mum," replied Rhoda doggedly.
Rhoda, the red-headed servant of Mrs. Bensusan, had run away on the plea that she was afraid of something what she did not explain in the note she left behind her, and it was necessary that she should be discovered, and forced into confessing what she knew of the conspiracy and murder. Mrs.
Bensusan also a survival great pleasure; and she cast a complacent look around as Lucian seated himself on an uncomfortable chair covered with an antimacassar of crochet work. "My rooms are most comfortable, an' much liked," said Mrs. Bensusan, sighing, "but I have not had many lodgers lately. Rhoda thinks it must be on account of that horrible murder." "The murder of Vrain in No. 13?"
For my own sake, I promised not to do so, but made her explain how she got into the house, and why she entered it. Then she told me an extraordinary tale. "For some years, she said, she had been with Mrs. Bensusan, who had taken her from the gypsies to civilise her, and hating the restraint of civilised life, she had been in the habit of roaming about at night.
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