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Updated: July 5, 2025
Sick with disgust and indignation, Gifford turned away and retraced his steps through the wood, dismissing, as likely to lead to a false position, his first impulse to appear on the scene and stop, at any rate for that day, Henshaw's designs. He felt that to act precipitately might do less good than harm.
"Yes. Why?" "Only that it must have been you I saw with him." "And can you throw any light on the mystery?" Morriston asked. The girl shook her head. "None at all, I'm afraid." "Did Mr. Henshaw's manner or state of mind strike you as being peculiar?" "Not in the least," Miss Elyot answered with decision.
That, together with the door locked on the inside, would tend to make Henshaw's death a mystery with a strong probability in favour of suicide, which would be altogether the happiest conclusion to arrive at.
Before twenty-four hours had passed, the last cherished fragment of Mr. William Henshaw's possessions had been carefully carried down the imposing steps of the Beacon Hill boarding-house under the disapproving eyes of its bugle-adorned mistress, who found herself now with a month's advance rent and two vacant "parlors" on her hands.
This was naturally a disappointment to Gifford, who was anxious, on Miss Morriston's behalf, to keep himself posted as to Henshaw's intentions. "Of course," said Kelson, "the fellow will have heard of the stains found on Muriel's dress, and will set himself to make the most of that discovery. I only hope he won't take to worrying her. She is quite enough upset about it without that."
On the promenade outside he met Sloan, the wireless operator, on his way to Captain Henshaw's cabin with a slip of paper in his hand. Sloan winked at him broadly. "The good news has come, sir," he grinned. "Take a look at this!" And McTee eagerly read the typewritten slip. Beatrice is rallying. Doctors have decided effusion of blood was not hemorrhage. Opinion now very hopeful.
They found nothing to suit them, till spying a very good coat of Mr. Henshaw's, one of them coolly encased himself in it and they all walked off together." I watched them from the window, and perceiving that they had left the gate open, I called out after them: "Be kind enough to shut the gate, will you? I am afraid the pigs will get in." They stopped a moment, smiled, and then did as I requested.
Neither was she accustomed to walk arm in arm with Mr. Cyril Henshaw to Miss Billy's door. When she reached there her cheeks were like red roses for color, and her eyes were like the stars for brightness. Yet a minute later, confronted by Miss Billy's astonished eyes, the stars and the roses fled, and a very white-faced girl fell over in a deathlike faint in Cyril Henshaw's arms.
"No," he decided, "I don't think that it would be Doctor Gant. Jocelyn Thew has finished with him all right. He did his job well and faithfully, but he was only a hired tool. Speculation, however, is useless. We must wait for Henshaw's news. Perhaps this third guest, whoever he may be, may give us a clue as to Jocelyn Thew's influence over Miss Beverley." The telephone rang a few minutes later.
"Then you knew she was a married woman, Dave?" "No; but Belle did." "How, I -wonder?" "She saw the wedding ring on Mrs. Henshaw's left hand." Dan Dalzell looked the picture of amazement. Then he whistled in consternation. "By the great Dewey!" he groaned hoarsely. "I never thought of that!" "No; but you should have done so." "Dave, I'm the biggest chump in the world.
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