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Despite a roundabout route, Furneaux had merely led Robert Fenley through the gardens to the Quarry Wood. Somewhat to the detective's surprise, the rock was unguarded. The two were standing there, discussing the crime, when Police Constable Farrow returned to his post.
"There are more things in heaven and earth, my dear, than are dreamt of in your philosophy." Blanche Farrow felt a little piqued. "I've never doubted that," she said curtly.
Jimmy, do you do you know any people on the stage actors and actresses?" "I know some yes. I know quite a lot." "Not Miss Farrow, I suppose?" she questioned eagerly. "Yes yes, I do," said Challoner. She gave a little cry of delight. "Oh, I wish I could meet her she's so beautiful." Challoner could not answer.
Jimmy laughed, rather a mirthless laugh. "Penniless beggars like me don't marry beautiful wives like like Miss Farrow," he said with a sort of savagery. "They want men with pots and pots of money, who can buy them motor-cars and diamonds, and all the rest of it." His voice was hurt and angry. Christine looked puzzled. She walked on a little way silently.
The cabman was staring at her curiously, and Peg came back to consciousness of her surroundings with a little gasping laugh. She looked at Farrow. "He can't have come, after all," she said faintly. Farrow shrugged his shoulders. He was beginning to feel rather foolish. Peg spoke to him sharply. "Pay the man, and tell him to go. What's he think he's staring at?"
Perhaps just because she had not broken down before, she felt the more now all that had happened in the way of the strange, the sinister, and the untoward during the last fortnight. And all at once, after reading yet again right through the quiet, measured letter of her old friend and constant lover, Blanche Farrow suddenly burst into a passion of tears.
The doctor again looked sharply at the speaker but no, Sir Lyon evidently meant what he said; and even Varick seemed to be taking the suggestion seriously; for "That's not a bad idea," he muttered. The three men walked on in silence for a few moments. "It would be interesting to know," observed Sir Lyon suddenly, "what Miss Farrow conceives to be the truth as to her niece's peculiar gifts.
"It can't be helped," said Miss Farrow good-naturedly. "I know you wouldn't have done it if you could have helped it, Pegler. But of course in a way it's unlucky." "I've pointed out to them all that there never is but one room haunted in a house as a rule," said the maid eagerly, "and I think they all quite sees that, ma'am. Besides, they're very pleased with Mr. Varick.
"Yes, he'll never come back now; not that I want him to," Jimmy hastened to add, with one of those little inward qualms that shook him whenever he thought of his brother, and what that brother would say when he knew that he was shortly to be asked to accept Cynthia Farrow as a sister-in-law. The great Horatio, as Jimmy disrespectfully called the head of his family, loathed the stage.
She added grudgingly, "He is a kind gentleman, and no mistake." "Indeed he is! I'm glad that you see that now, Pegler." Miss Farrow spoke with a touch of meaning in her voice. "I did a very good turn for myself when I got him out of that queer scrape years ago." "Why yes, ma'am, I suppose you did." But Pegler's tone was not as hearty as that of her lady. There was a pause.
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