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Too late;... but whilst Leroux was in... Cumberly's flat... leaving door open ... Mr. King went... in... Mahara... was watching... gave signal... whistle... of someone's approach. It was thought... Mr. King... had secured ALL the message... Mrs. Vernon... was... writing.... Mr.
Max, who covertly had been watching the face of Sir Brian Malpas, said at this point: "I would not miss it for anything, after reading Miss Cumberly's account of it. When are you thinking of going to see it, Sir Brian? I might arrange to join you." "Directly the exhibition is opened," replied the baronet, lapsing again into his dreamy manner. "Ring me up when you are going, and I will join you."
Fortunately, Helen Cumberly's self-chosen path in life had taught her how to handle the nascent and undesirable lover. She chatted upon the subject of art, and fenced adroitly whenever the Greek sought to introduce the slightest personal element into the conversation.
Dunbar sprang forward and leaned out over the ledge, looking to right and left, above and below. A sort of square courtyard was beneath, and for the convenience of tradesmen, a hand-lift was constructed outside the kitchens of the three flats comprising the house; i. e.: Mr. Exel's, ground floor, Henry Leroux's second floor, and Dr. Cumberly's, top.
Helen Cumberly grew slowly quite pallid. "Good night," she said; and bowing to the detective and to the surgeon, she prepared to depart. Mr. Hilton touched Dr. Cumberly's arm, as he, too, was about to retire. "May I hope," he whispered, "that you will return and give me the benefit of your opinion in making out my report?" Dr.
A groan issued from Dr. Cumberly's lips; and M. Max, with ready sympathy, crossed the room and placed his hands upon the physician's shoulders, looking steadfastly into his eyes. "I understand, Dr. Cumberly," he said, and his voice was caressing as a woman's. "Pardieu! I understand. To wait is agony; but you, who are a physician, know that to wait sometimes is necessary.
Then, stretching out one long arm, he laid the wallet and the pen beside his glass upon the top of a bookcase, without otherwise changing his position, and glancing aside at Exel, said: "Now, Mr. Exel, what help can you give us?" "I have little to add to Dr. Cumberly's account," answered Exel, offhandedly. "The whole thing seemed to me"...
"I do not know him," said Sir Brian, "I should very much like to meet him. But directly the picture is on view to the public I shall certainly subscribe my half-crown." "My own idea," drawled Exel, "was that Miss Cumberly's article probably was more interesting than the picture or the painter.
He seemed to hesitate, looking at his daughter, whose gray eyes were fixed upon him intently, and then at Denise Ryland, who, with her chin resting upon her hands, and her elbows propped upon the table, was literally glaring at him. "Opium!" he said. A look of horror began slowly to steal over Helen Cumberly's face; Denise Ryland's head commenced to sway from side to side. But neither woman spoke.