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Updated: May 23, 2025
She was in league with the gallows and could not bear to see it cheated of its prey. For some reason she hated the Grimshaws. I had seen the hate in her eyes the day she dogged along behind the old money-lender through the streets of the village when her pointing finger had seemed to say to me: "There, there is the man who has brought me to this.
But Daylight smiled, and shook his head, and mimicked the stereotyped office tone of voice as he said: "Miss Mason, you will kindly tell Mr. Hegan that there is nothing doing and to hang up." "But you can't do this," she pleaded. "Watch me," he grimly answered. "Elam!" "Say it again," he cried. "Say it again, and a dozen Grimshaws and Hodgkins can smash!"
One night I was called to the telephone by the Grimshaws' physician. I'll tell you his name, because he has a lot to do with the rest of the story Doctor Waram, Douglas Waram an Australian. "Grimshaw has murdered a man," he said briefly. "I want you to help me. Come to Cheyne Walk. Take a cab. Hurry."
"It's God's book o' life, boy, an' I should say ye'd done very well in it." After a little he asked: "Have ye ever heard of a man who had the Grimshaws?" I shook my head as I looked at him, not knowing just what he was driving at. "Sure, it's a serious illness an' it has two phases.
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