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Updated: May 19, 2025
She had been in the Judge's family even at the time of the death of his wife years before, and she had looked as old then as she does when I see her in my own home now. The old woman's name is Margaret Murchie. You will see that she, too, is involved in this affair. How I noticed her at all that evening, or how I kept up an intelligent conversation with Judge Colfax, I cannot explain.
"I have debated this question and decided that we must not disturb your wife. She has warned against that, and perhaps it is better to assume she is not insane and take her warning." "Yes, yes," he cried. "That is right." "I shall not parley with Margaret Murchie," I went on. "Move a little! I have something I want to reach under the seat. There! I shall not ask her to come.
When Margaret Murchie, sitting in the interior of the limousine, with the arc light playing through the thousand raindrops on the window pane spotting a face lined with the strength of a stolid old maid, had finished her narrative, there was no sound but that of the storm mourning down the avenue. Estabrook sat with his forehead in his hands.
"Danger!" he screamed, clawing at the red blankets. "My God! Has it come? What form? Quick, I say! What form?" "It is because you can shed light upon it that I have come," said I. "We know little. She has sent her husband away " "Damn him!" he choked. "She has locked herself in her room. She has been so for three weeks. The maid " "Margaret Murchie," he whispered. "She believes that I am dead?"
Realizing from past experience that the association could have little influence with it, the board appointed Huntley N. Spaulding, a prominent citizen, chairman of a Men's Committee for Ratification, and he called to his aid Dwight Hall, chairman of the State Republican Committee, and Alexander Murchie, chairman of the State Democratic Committee.
A second later he ducked his helmet into the driving rain and, walking on, turned into the shadows of the cross-street. I knew then I had no time to lose. I had been delayed; Margaret Murchie might regain her senses.
"I am less conservative in my ideas," I answered. "Since we are in this field of turbulence and mystery, let us be turbulent and mysterious. All that you say is true. Therefore, we must force the truth from Margaret Murchie." "You mean to induce her " he began. "Stuff!" said I. "The thing I mean is assault and battery. The thing I mean is kidnapping.
Margaret Murchie let me in. Had I been a wolf she could not have glared at me more; it was evident that her shrewd old eyes, whatever hidden knowledge lay behind them, regarded me as a brigand, as a menace, as some one who had come to take a precious treasure of art from the drawing-room or the household goddess from the front hall.
There is only one person now in this world who could have told you my name. I have been sure that she has long believed me to be dead. That person is Margaret Murchie, and it is only too plain that she has told you all that she knows of me. Parts of my life she does not know.
He leaned forward and looked through the misty glass in the door, across the wind-swept street, at the dripping front of his home, at the dim light that burned there. "God, sir!" he said, turning on me with his teeth set like those of a fighting animal. "What's all this to me? I love her! She's mine! She's the most beautiful the best woman in all the world!" Margaret Murchie shivered.
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