Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 15, 2025
"Both now and later, I flatly refuse to consider any such bequest he may have made me," went on Kathleen, unheeding his words as her excitement increased, and Miss Kiametia hastened to avert the threatened scene. "Where were you yesterday afternoon, Randall?" she asked. "In Baltimore." Foster flashed her a grateful glance. "I hope you made use of my car yesterday, Mrs.
Turning from Miss Kiametia, he addressed Detective Mitchell in a low tone. "Have you caught Julie, the French maid?" he asked. "All developments in the case will be brought out at the inquest," replied Mitchell politely, and Foster, his curiosity unsatisfied, walked away.
Both men never moved their gaze from Whitney's ashen face. "Were all members of your family on good terms with Mr. Spencer?" "They were," Whitney moistened his parched lips, and only the detective caught his furtive glance behind him. "Did anyone beside your immediate family spend last night in this house, Mr. Whitney?" he asked. "No yes," confusedly. "Miss Kiametia Grey...." "Winslow" Mrs.
Not one, apparently, has the faintest idea as to when she disappeared, and where." "So!" ejaculated Foster unbelievingly. "I imagine the police will jog their memories." "Let us hope they will succeed in finding Julie," snapped Miss Kiametia. "I confess the situation is getting on my nerves. If she committed the murder, she should suffer for it.
He knew Miss Kiametia dearly loved a morsel of gossip, but he also knew that she could be trusted not to divulge matters of real importance.
"Well, your lobster won't account for the non-appearance of Henry," mourned Mrs. Whitney, her mind harking back to her own grievance. "How d'ye do, Mrs. Sunderland," as an elaborately gowned woman swept by their table, barely returning their greeting. "It is the regret of my life," announced Miss Kiametia, her eyes twinkling, "that I never kept a photograph of Mrs.
"Such a scene as I had with Kiametia," groaned Mrs. Whitney sighing dismally at the recollection. "Finally, I convinced her that I knew nothing of Mr. Spencer's presence, and she consented to sleep in the hall bedroom." "I'm glad Kiametia discovered Spencer in time." His chuckle developing into a laugh, Whitney rose and walked to the door. "It's no crying matter, my dear.
"I am for peace with a punch." Again Spencer cut into the conversation, but his condition was so apparent that Kathleen shrank from him. "Miss Kathleen, give me firs' dance," he demanded, as Miss Kiametia laid aside her napkin and pushed back her chair.
"Well, you might hazard a guess." But Foster's only answer was a negative shake of his head. "Pshaw! use your imagination suppose Spencer was unduly inquisitive about Winslow's invention " "Stop, Kiametia!" Foster held up a warning hand. "You are treading on dangerous ground. Be sure of your facts before suggesting that a man of Winslow's known integrity is involved in murder."
"Telephoned Sinclair Spencer to stop and see me this morning, but his servant said he never showed up until noon today." "Kathleen pleaded guilty to a sleepless night," volunteered Mrs. Whitney, to the girl's secret indignation. "It was the lobster," answered Miss Kiametia. "I tried to warn you not to eat it, Kathleen."
Word Of The Day
Others Looking