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Updated: May 23, 2025
"Oh, you see I might want to do a little shopping in Newark." "Shop in Newark! That's a good one! Why, girlie, you never want to shop outside of little old New York, and you know it. Shop in Newark!" Embury laughed at the very idea. "But I might see something in a window that's just what I want." "Then make a note of it, and buy it in New York.
Sanford Embury instead of little Eunice Ames hasn't changed my attitude toward you!" "Oh, Auntie, you are too ridiculous!" and Eunice laughed outright. "But the tables are turned, and I am not only Mrs, Sanford Embury but your hostess, and, as such, entitled to your polite regard for my wishes."
I know that Mr. and Mrs. Embury were not always cooing like turtle-doves! She had the devil's own temper and he wasn't much better! I know he drove her frantic because he wouldn't give her some privileges she wanted wouldn't allow her certain latitudes, and was generally pretty dictatorial.
Eunice was playing the hand, and though her face paled, and a spot of bright color appeared on either cheek she did not lose her head, and carried the hand through to a successful conclusion. "Game and rubber!" she cried, triumphantly, and the vanquished pair nodded regretfully. "And the last game, please, for my wife," Embury said, in calm, courteous tones. "You can get a substitute, of course.
"Have you any idea, McGuire, who the murderer was?" "No, sir, I haven't. But I've an idea where to get an idea. And I want you to help me." "Surely that goes without saying." "You'd do anything for Mrs, Embury, wouldn't you?" "Anything." The simple assertion told the whole story, and Fibsy nodded with satisfaction. "Then tell me truly, sir, please, wasn't Mr. Embury a a a "
"Yes, that's it," and Eunice smiled bravely, although her lips still quivered from her recent turbulent quarrel, and a light, jaunty air was forced to conceal her lingering nervousness. "Irate husband is good!" laughed Embury, "considering we are yet honeymooners." "Good dissemblers, both of you," and Elliott settled himself in an easy chair, "but you don't fool your old friend.
Baby is much relieved, and has fallen into a sweet sleep. And I have had time to carry my tired, oppressed heart to my compassionate Saviour, and to tell Him what I cannot utter to any human ear. How strange it is that when, through many years of leisure and strength, prayer was only a task, it is now my chief solace if I can only snatch time for it. Mrs. Embury has a little daughter.
On his way to the club, Embury pursued that pleasing occupation known as nursing his wrath. He was sorry he had left Eunice in anger he realized it was the first time that had ever happened and he was tempted to go back, or, at least to telephone back, that he was sorry.
Driscoll. Why single out me for a suspect?" The haughty face turned to him was quite severely critical. "True, Mrs, Embury, why should I? The answer is, motive. You must admit that I had neither motive nor opportunity to kill your husband. Mrs, Desternay, let us say, had neither opportunity nor motive. Miss Ames had opportunity but no motive.
Eunice Embury did agree, but it was only after the strenuous insistence of Dr. Marsden. She flew into a rage at first, and the doctor, who was unacquainted with her, wondered at her fiery exhibition of temper. And, but for the arrival of Mason Elliott on the scene, she might have resisted longer.
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