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Updated: June 23, 2025
"But I thought I thought," said the barrister, unable to conceal his surprise, "that is, I fancied you were indoors." "Your fancy was wrong, you see. I am not indoors." "Then who is in your house?" Berwin shrugged his shoulders. "No one, so far as I know." "You are mistaken, sir. There was a light in your room, and I saw the shadows of a man and a woman struggling together thrown on the blind."
Berwin lives is enough to make one think him a coiner, or a thief, or even a murderer that it is!" "But what grounds have you to believe him any one of the three?" This question also puzzled the landlady, as she had no reasonable grounds for her wild statements. Nevertheless, she made a determined attempt to substantiate them by hearsay evidence. "Mr.
Advertise a full description of the man who called himself Berwin, note his physical peculiarities and looks, and circulate such description by means of handbills and newspapers." Link looked angry, and laughed rather contemptuously, as his professional pride was touched by the fact of being advised by an individual not of his calling.
The robocomputer who was in charge of the hearing pondered the request a few moments; then relays clicked and the left-hand panel on the computer face lit up with a bright red APPLICATION DENIED signal. Berwin spoke for three minutes, ending up with a request that the robocomputer disqualify itself from the hearing and allow itself to be replaced by a human judge.
She had a firm idea that Berwin had, in her own emphatic phrase, "done something" for which he was wanted by the police, and was always on the look out to learn the secret of his isolated life, in order to betray him, or blackmail him, or get him in some way under her thumb. As yet she had been unsuccessful.
Denzil." "I allude to the shadows on the blind, which I saw myself a week before the murder took place. They were those of a man and a woman, and must have been cast by bodies of flesh and blood. Therefore, two people must have been in Berwin's sitting-room on that night; yet when I met Berwin who was absent at the time he denied that anyone could have entered his house without his knowledge.
"Begging your pardon, I'm sure," cried the pertinacious woman, "but he does. Mrs. Kebby has been all over the house, and there isn't another soul in it. No, Mr. Denzil, take it what way you will, there's something that ain't right about Mr. Berwin if that's his real name, which I don't believe it is." "Why, Miss Greeb?" "Just because I don't," replied the landlady, with feminine logic.
I saw myself when I knew your father as Berwin, that he had lost that little finger." "Then, Lucian, you did not see my father!" "What!" cried Denzil, hardly able to credit her words. "My father never lost a finger!" cried Diana, starting to her feet. "Ah, Lucian, I now begin to see light. That man who called himself Berwin, who was murdered, was not my father.
Berwin turned up the lamp light and waved his hand round the luxuriously furnished room, pointing particularly to the space between table and window. "The figures whose shadows you saw," said he, "must have struggled together in this space, so as to be between the lamp and the blind for the performance of their pantomime. But I would have you observe, Mr.
Berwin's explanations and excuses only confirmed the idea that there was something in the man's life which cut him off from humanity, and which would not bear the light of day. Hitherto, Lucian had heard rather than seen Berwin; but now, in the clear light of the lamp, he had an excellent opportunity of observing both the man and his quarters.
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