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Updated: May 22, 2025
Outside the gates he paused and shook his clinched fist menacingly at the noble old house. "I'll pay you out, my fine feller, if ever I get a chance! You're a very great man, and a very proud man, Sir Everard Kingsland, and you own a fine fortune and a haughty, handsome wife, and G. W. Parmalee's no more than the mud under your feet. Very well we'll see!
Of course I had no right to keep this knowledge to myself, and, too, I wanted Parmalee's opinion on the situation as it stood at present. "It doesn't really surprise me," he said, "for I thought all along, Miss Lloyd was not telling the truth. I'm not yet ready to say that I think she killed her uncle, although I must say it seems extremely probable.
Parmalee's little mystery was more of a mystery than even she had dreamed. The man's arrival gave her her cue. "Our American friend is a devotee of art, it seems," she said, with a light laugh. "He lets no grass grow under his feet. I had no easy task to restrain his artistic ardor during your absence. I never knew such an inquisitive person, either; he did nothing but ask questions."
"Give her this. She'll see me before I leave this house, or I'm much mistaken. She's a very proud lady, this baronet's bride; but for all that she'll obey G. W. Parmalee's orders, or he'll know the reason why."
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