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Updated: May 3, 2025
I was luckily able to turn the tables on these fellows. But one thing you, and all of you, gentlemen, should know. Had I not been able to substitute a false key for the real one, the latter would never have passed into Hartmann's hands, if I had died for it." "I know it, my friend. I was a fool, a dolt, even for one moment to doubt it.
Hartmann's from her expedition to Brussels, she went at once to her room, and locked the record which Lablanche had given her in her trunk. There was nothing to be done now, until after luncheon.
The detective drew back his arm his fist clenched. The impulse to drive it into Hartmann's face was overpowering. He turned abruptly on his heel, and made no reply. Hartmann waited for a moment, then seeing that his prisoner was not disposed to answer, went toward the door. "Max," he called, opening it, "bring in the tray."
He dared not tell the fellow to drive to the railway station, since Hartmann, who stood beside the cab chatting with Grace, would inevitably hear him. He therefore instructed the man to go to Dr. Hartmann's with the intention of countermanding the order a little later, as soon as they had got out of earshot of the house.
His words, though vague, had a clear and holy meaning for me. He must then have loved my dear dead mother, I thought fondly, when twenty years of separation have not effaced her memory from his heart and mind. I was busy with these reflections as we drove through the streets of the city towards the Hartmann's residence, and I alighted at their door with my eyes full of unshed tears.
He had a momentary vision of a patch of light, yellow against the surrounding blackness, which disappeared almost instantly as the door was closed. Then he was conscious of a shadowy form beside him, and heard the smooth, modulated tones of Dr. Hartmann's voice. "Well, Mr. Duvall," he said, "how goes the treatment? Memory any better this morning?" He made no reply.
For a long time we have tried to get one of our own agents into Dr. Hartmann's house, but without success. He is very shrewd very cautious. All his servants are countrymen of his, upon whom he knows he can depend. His patients are people of wealth, position, standing, who, he knows, could not possibly be agents of the French police.
Hartmann's, after her husband's departure, her feelings divided between her joy at his success for she felt that his departure with Seltz meant success and her sorrow at seeing him leave her, without so much as a single glance. She felt certain that she would hear from him during the course of the afternoon, and after eating her luncheon, sat down to read a book.
Married at noon torn from his wife within an hour in London at night a murder and now a wild chase to Brussels after a snuff box. It seemed almost ludicrous. He smiled grimly. He had not expected to spend in quite this way the first twelve hours of his honeymoon. On the morning of her first day at Dr. Hartmann's sanatorium, Grace Duvall rose early, and dressed herself for a walk.
Giving him all credit for the pains he has taken with an ungrateful, if not impossible subject, I think that a sufficient sample of Von Hartmann's own words will be a useful adjunct to Mr. Sully's work, and may perhaps save some readers trouble by resolving them to look no farther into the "Philosophy of the Unconscious."
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