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Updated: May 9, 2025
Indeed, he gradually came to regard it as such, and to feel a sense of personal complacency when he chanced on any reference to the Gryce Americana. Anxious as he was to avoid personal notice, he took, in the printed mention of his name, a pleasure so exquisite and excessive that it seemed a compensation for his shrinking from publicity.
Gryce stopped for a look of encouragement from the severely silent man he was endeavoring to impress. But he did not get it.
Indoors there was a general sense of dispersal in the air, as of an audience gathering itself up for departure after the principal actors had left the stage; but among the remaining groups, Lily could discover neither Gryce nor the youngest Miss Van Osburgh. That both should be missing struck her with foreboding; and she charmed Mr.
Trohm's declaration of affection in Lost Man's Lane! Give me time, Mr. Gryce; in a few minutes I will be more coherent." "I am giving you time," he returned with one of his lowest bows. "The half-dozen questions I long to ask have not yet left my lips, and I sit here, as you must yourself acknowledge, a monument of patience."
O you need not shake your heads at each other so significantly, gentlemen. I have been collecting evidence as well as yourselves, and what I have learned is very much to the point; very much, indeed." "The deuce you have!" muttered the Inspector, turning away from me; but Mr. Gryce continued to eye me like a man fascinated. "Upon what," said he, "do you base these extraordinary assertions?
Gryce, I found that person busily engaged in counting his own fingers with a troubled expression upon his countenance, which may or may not have been the result of that arduous employment.
Her shudder, as she seated herself, was very convincing. She was too young to simulate so successfully emotions of this character. "I'm glad of that," she responded, half fretfully, half gratefully, as Mr. Gryce followed her mother into the adjoining room. "I've had a bad enough time of it without being blamed for what I didn't know and didn't do." Mr.
I looked away, the vision of Mr. Fobbs, in hiding behind the curtains of the opposite house, recurring painfully to my mind. "If the affair looks as bad as you say it does," she pursued, "it is scarcely probable that Mr. Gryce will care much for any interpretation of mine in regard to the matter." "Mr.
"Elvira Brown? That the name on the package?" "Yes." "And the address?" The name of a small town in the Catskills was given him. "Thank you. Very good work." And Mr. Gryce hung up the receiver. Then he stood thinking. "Elvira Brown! A very fair alias that is, the Brown end. But what am I to think of Elvira?
Gradually succumbing to the remorse or terror of his own crime, he sank lower and lower, until, though with that one arm still stretched out, he lay in an inert heap on the floor. "It is what I saw him do upstairs," murmured Styles into the ear of the amazed detective. "He has evidently been driven insane by his own act." Mr. Gryce made no answer.
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