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Updated: May 7, 2025
I was taken to a house where several horrid men quite superior sort of men in a way, but they seemed as if they hated me, and I couldn't think why asked me a lot of questions. At first they spoke in a language I didn't understand at all, but afterwards in French; and then I found they wanted to know about that Mr. Cassavetti; they called him by another name, too " "Selinski," I said.
Thus directly appealed to, she had to turn to him, and I heard him explaining his question, which she affected not to understand; heard also her answer, given with icy sweetness, and without even a glance in my direction. "Oh, no, I am sure Mr. Wynn is not capable of inventing such an excuse." Thereupon she resumed her conversation with Cassavetti.
One was that the assassin must have been in the rooms for some considerable time before Cassavetti returned, to be struck down the instant he entered. The position of the body, just behind the door, proved that. Also he was still wearing his thin Inverness, and his hat had rolled to a corner of the little hall.
I had indicated Cassavetti with a scarcely perceptible gesture, for I knew that, though he was still talking to the pretty woman in black, he was furtively watching us. A curious expression crossed Anne's mobile face as she glanced across at him, from under her long lashes. But her next words, spoken aloud, had no reference to my warning. "Is it true that you are leaving town at once?" "Yes.
"Maurice Wynn, I have a warrant for your arrest on the charge of murdering Vladimir Selinski, alias Cassavetti." The next I knew I was in bed, in a cool, darkened room, with a man seated in an easy-chair near at hand, smoking a cigarette, and reading what looked remarkably like an English newspaper. I lay and looked at him lazily, for a few minutes.
"There wasn't a shred of real evidence against you; though they tried to make a lot out of that bit of withered geranium found in your waste-paper basket; just because the housekeeper remembered that Cassavetti had a red flower in his buttonhole when he came in; but I was able to smash that point at once, thanks to your cousin."
"I have told him that I have never been in Russia," she continued, "and he is rude enough to disbelieve a lady!" "I protest and apologize also," asserted Cassavetti, "though you are smoking a Russian cigarette." "As two-thirds of the women here are doing. The others are non-smoking frumps," she laughed. "But you smoke them with such a singular grace."
He seemed in mortal fear of some "Selinski" or a name that sounded like that; and I did discover one point, that by Selinski he meant Cassavetti. When he found he had given that much away, he was so scared that I thought he was going to collapse again, as he did on the staircase. And yet he had been entrusted with a pass-key to Cassavetti's rooms! Only two items seemed perfectly clear.
I repeated what I had already told Cassavetti. "Well, I call that real interesting!" she declared. "If you'd left that poor old creature on the stairs, you'd never have forgiven yourself, Maurice. It sounds like a piece out of a story, doesn't it, Jim?" "You're right, my dear! A fairy story," chuckled Jim, facetiously. "You think so, anyhow, eh, Anne?"
He brought me a tall tumbler of whiskey and soda, with ice clinking deliciously in it; and I drank it and felt better. "That's good," I remarked. "I haven't had anything since I breakfasted with you, forgot all about it till now. You see I happened to find the poor chap Cassavetti when I ran up to say good-bye to him."
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