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Updated: May 1, 2025
There was a queer new look in them, a strange new feeling creeping through her veins. Was she going to sleep?... Quest's voice broke an unnatural silence. "You are anxious to telephone some one," he said. "You looked at both of the booths as we came through the hotel. Then you remembered, I think, that he would not be there yet. Telephone now. The telephone is at your right hand.
Quest's life, it will perhaps help him to understand the apparent strangeness of his conduct with reference to his wife and Edward Cossey. It is quite true that Belle did not know the full extent of her husband's guilt.
Something in the nature of a conference was proceeding in Quest's study. The Professor was there, seated in the most comfortable easy-chair, smoking without relish one of his host's best cigars, watching with nervous impatience the closed door. Laura and Lenora were seated at the table, dressed for the street. They had the air of being prepared for some excursion.
Handcuffs? Ah, no! I am only too anxious to tell you all that I know. Take care of me, Mr. Quest. Take me with you." He gripped Quest's arm. In silence they passed from the room, in silence they took their places once more in the automobiles, in silence they drove without a pause to Quest's rooms. The Professor seemed to breathe more freely as they left the neighbourhood of his house behind.
Quest's disadvantage, indeed she always heard him spoken of with great respect, and curiously enough she liked his wife. But she could not bear the man, feeling in her heart that he was not only to be avoided on account of his own hidden qualities, but that he was moreover an active personal enemy. They went into the dining-room, where the luncheon was set, and while Ida allowed Mr.
"I wonder whether Laura's had any luck." They were greeted, as they entered Quest's room, by a familiar little ticking. Quest smiled with pleasure. "It's the pocket wireless," he declared. "Let me take down the message." He spelt it out to Lenora, who stood by his side: "Have joined Servants' Club disguised as your butler. Craig frequent visitor here ten years ago, comes now occasionally.
Craig reported burned in wreck but think you had better come on." "FRENCH, Samaritan Hospital, Allguez." "When can we start?" Laura exclaimed excitedly. Lenora clutched at Quest's arm. "I knew it," she declared simply. "I felt perfectly certain, when they left San Francisco, that something would happen. We haven't seen the end of Craig yet."
"I shall accompany you," the Professor declared. "The discomforts of travelling without luggage are nothing compared with the importance of discovering this human fiend." "Luggage pshaw!" Laura exclaimed. "Who cares about that?" "And nothing," Lenora declared firmly, as she caught at Quest's arm, "would keep me away."
"You go right ahead," the Sheriff acquiesced. Quest rang up the Professor. His response to the call was a little languid, and his reception of the news of Quest's successful enterprise was almost querulous. "My friend," the Professor said, "your news gratifies me, of course. Your rehabilitation, however, was a matter of certainty. With me life has become a chaos.
Quest's tragic death and the return of the deeds, and though he knew that Ida would hate him the more for doing it, he instructed his lawyers to call in the money and make use of every possible legal means to harass and put pressure upon Mr. de la Molle.
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