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Updated: May 27, 2025
"He never even saw him, Mr. Harley, that I know of." "It is most extraordinary that he should have given me the impression that this man for I can only suppose that he referred to Ormuz Khan was in some way associated with his fears." "I must remind you, Mr. Harley," Doctor McMurdoch interrupted, "that poor Abingdon was a free talker.
But far from my interest having ceased, it has now as I see the matter become a sacred duty to learn what it was that Sir Charles apprehended. This duty, Doctor McMurdoch, I propose to fulfil with or without your assistance." "Oh," said Doctor McMurdoch, gloomily, "I'm afraid I've offended you. But I meant well, Mr. Harley." A faint trace of human emotion showed itself in his deep voice.
"Charley Abingdon and I were students together in Edinburgh," he explained. "I was mayhap a little strange." His apology was so evidently sincere that Harley relented at once. "Please say no more, Doctor McMurdoch," he responded. "I fully appreciate your feelings in the matter.
"Then my question is this: Does not your interest cease with the death of your client?" "Doctor McMurdoch," said Harley, sternly, "you no doubt believe yourself to be acting as a friend of this bereaved family. You regard me, perhaps, as a Paul Pry prompted by idle curiosity. On the contrary, I find myself in a delicate and embarrassing situation.
He determined, however, even at the cost of incurring a rebuke, to urge Doctor McMurdoch to employ all the influence he possessed to terminate an acquaintanceship which could not be otherwise than undesirable, if it was not actually dangerous.
As the typist went out, followed by Innes, Paul Harley found himself thinking of the photograph in Sir Charles Abingdon's library and waiting with an almost feverish expectancy for the appearance of the original. Almost immediately Phil Abingdon came in, accompanied by the sepulchral Doctor McMurdoch.
A dry and sepulchral cough of approval came from Doctor McMurdoch; and Harley divined with joy that when the ordeal of the next day was over Phil Abingdon would have to face cross-examination by the conscientious Scotsman respecting this stranger whose attentions, if Orientally extravagant, were instinct with such generous sympathy.
"I am afraid, Miss Abingdon," he replied, quietly, "that the matter is not one in which I am entitled to express my opinion." She continued to look at him challengingly, but: "Quite right, Mr. Harley," said Doctor McMurdoch, "but if you were, your opinion would be the same as mine." Mrs. McMurdoch's glance became positively beseeching, but the physician ignored it.
Surely Sir Charles, having resided so long in India, numbered several Orientals among his acquaintances if not among his friends?" "None ever came to his home," replied Doctor McMurdoch. "He had all the Anglo-Indian's prejudice against men of colour." He rested his massive chin in his hand and stared down reflectively at the carpet. "Then you have no suggestion to offer in regard to this person?"
She was staying at the McMurdochs' house, and as the object at present in view was that of a visit to her old home, from which the funeral of Sir Charles Abingdon was to take place on the morrow, Harley became suddenly conscious of the fact that his presence was inopportune. "I believe you want to see me, Doctor McMurdoch," he said, turning to the dour physician.
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