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Updated: May 7, 2025
I saw it myself; but it wasn't Anne's portrait! Now just you tell me, right now, what you said to Southbourne. Any of this nonsense about her and Cassavetti and the red symbol?" "No," he answered impatiently. "I put two and two together and made that out for myself, and I've never mentioned it to a soul but you." I breathed more freely when I heard that.
He meant to warn her. They guessed that, and they condemned, murdered him!" He began pacing up and down the room, muttering to himself; and I sat trying to piece out the matter in my own mind. "Have you heard anything of a man called Cassavetti; though I believe his name was Selinski?" I asked at length. Von Eckhardt turned to me open-mouthed. "Selinski?
She belongs to the same secret society that Cassavetti was connected with; there was an understanding between them that night, though it's quite possible they hadn't met each other before. Do you remember she gave him a red geranium? That's their precious symbol." "Did you say all this to Southbourne when he showed you the portrait that was found on Carson?" I interrupted.
Cassavetti last night," I continued. "But before that " I was going to mention the mysterious Russian; but my auditor checked me. "Half a minute, Mr. Wynn," he said, as he filled in some words on a form, and handed it to a police officer waiting inside the door. The man took the paper, saluted, and went out. "I gather that you did not search the rooms?
I can't believe that you're safe here again, after all! And I feel that I was to blame for it all " "You? Why, how's that, sweetheart?" "Because I flirted with that Cassavetti at the dinner, don't you remember? That seemed to be the beginning of everything! I was so cross with you, and he he puzzled and interested me, though I felt frightened just at the last when I gave him that flower.
"You want Mr. Cassavetti?" I asked in Russian. "Well, his rooms are on the next floor." I pointed upwards as I spoke, and the miserable looking old creature understood the gesture at least, for, renewing his apologetic protestations, he began to shuffle along the landing, supporting himself by the hand-rail. I knew my neighbor Cassavetti fairly well.
"And yet she sat next to Cassavetti at the Savage Club dinner, an hour or two before he was murdered; and you talked to her rather confidentially, under the portico." I tried bluff once more, though it doesn't come easily to me. I looked him straight in the face and said deliberately: "I don't quite understand you, Lord Southbourne.
Cassavetti, the murder, all the puzzling events of the last few days, receded to my mental horizon vanished beyond it as boat and train bore me swiftly onwards, away from England, towards Anne Pendennis. Berlin at last.
Was Cassavetti cognizant of it, concerned with it in any way; and was the incident of the open door that had so perplexed Jenkins another link in the mysterious chain? At any rate, Cassavetti was not the man dressed as a sailor; though he might have been the man in the boat. The more I brooded over it the more bewildered distracted my brain became.
You see I reckoned it was none of my business, or his, and I meant to screen the girl, for Mary's sake, and yours. But now, this has come up; and you're arrested for murdering Cassavetti. Upon my soul, Maurice, I believe I ought to have spoken out! And if you stand in danger." "Listen to me, Jim Cayley," I said determinedly.
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