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Updated: May 18, 2025
"Reminds me of that Russian princess woman who's been staying at the Palatial, only it's too young for her. What's her name? Petrovska, I think." "Thanks," said Foyle; "it doesn't matter much. Ah, here's your stuff. Good-bye, boys, and don't worry me more than you can help. This thing is going to keep us pretty busy." He saw them out of the room and carefully closed the door.
She saw Tony Foyle cleaning the campus lanterns during the day, and she stopped and spoke to him. "I heard you tell Jennie Stone last night that you had to drive street musicians away from the school grounds, sir?" said Ruth, quietly. "Was there a man with a harp among them?" "Sure an' there was," declared Tony, nodding. "And he was a sassy dago, at that!
"That you must find out either from Mr. Grell or her. I don't know." Foyle drew out his watch. "All right, Ivan. I'll see you again shortly. Meanwhile, I'll send some one along to get your statement. I don't think you'll regret having decided to speak. Good-bye." Both Sir Hilary Thornton and Chief Inspector Green were waiting for Heldon Foyle when he returned to his office.
Men were losing their heads; there was an element of irresponsibility in the new outbreak likely to breed some violent act, which every man of them would lament when sober again. Nettlewood Foyle watched the dust rising from the wheels of the stage, which had passed the elevator and was nearing the Prairie Home Hotel, far down the street.
Then Foyle was ushered in calm and unruffled as though he were merely making a social call. She returned his bow frigidly. "I hope you will not consider my call inconvenient, Lady Eileen," he said suavely. "I considered it of importance that I should see you as soon as possible." She crossed her knees and regarded him composedly. "I am sorry I was out when you called this morning.
Foreign news, which probably reached him only on reaching the Foyle, led to a sudden change of tactics on the part of Sussex, and the young Lord Kildare O'Neil's cousin-germain, was employed to negotiate a peace with the enemy they had set out to demolish.
Practically the whole of the six hundred men of the C.I.D. were engaged on the case, for there was no avenue of investigation so slender but that there might be something at the end of it. Neither Foyle nor his lieutenants were men to leave anything to chance. Green was seated opposite to him, discussing the progress they had made. The superintendent leaned back wearily in his chair.
Had some one thought to strike a match while the struggle was going on there would have been no confusion, and the man would have been unable to get away. Nor did the news that awaited Foyle at his office tend to make him more pleased with the progress of the investigation. A telephone message had come through the chief of the Liverpool detective force
You are too mischievous to be allowed to run around loose." Her red lips parted in a scornful smile. "Oh, you make me tired," she retorted. "Good-bye, Mr. Foyle." "Pardon me," he said, and thrusting a couple of fingers into his waistcoat pocket, fished out a piece of paper. "Do you know this writing?" She handed the piece of paper back to him with a shake of the head. "No.
Four of the five chief detective-inspectors who form the general staff of the C.I.D. were in the room, among them Wagnell, who had passed a quarter of a century in the East End and knew the lower grades of "crooks" thoroughly, collectively, and individually. Foyle shut the door.
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