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Updated: June 9, 2025
Beyond, in a canvas forest, stood a man, open-mouthed, raising and lowering his right arm at regular intervals. And between the shiver of violins and the shudder of trumpets, she heard some one saying, "Mrs. Feverill, that is rather fly. Stops at the Ranleigh." At once the music swooned.
"You're excused until morning," said the Chief curtly. The detective saluted and went out. "I am exceedingly sorry I overlooked Whiteside when I escaped from Crenshaw's garrote in the Chateau," Harleston remarked. "The simple fact is, I clean forgot him until I was talking with you on the telephone." "It's just as well, Mr. Harleston," Ranleigh replied. "It served him right.
"When I came home this afternoon," Usselex continued, "and found that you had gone, I could not understand " "You might have gone to the Ranleigh for information. Let me pass!" "Why to the Ranleigh? surely " "To Mrs. Feverill, then, since you wish me to be explicit. Let me pass, I say." "It was of her I wished to tell you " "Was it, indeed? You were considerate enough, however, not to do so."
I couldn't have been mistaken." Ranleigh nodded. Her story was testing up very well on the known points. "Now, Mrs. Winton, can you give some description of the woman in the case her appearance how she was dressed anything to aid us in identifying her?" "I'm afraid I can't be of much help," Mrs. Winton replied. "She was, I think, clad in a dark street gown.
"Granted; yet where is she? moreover, she promised me to do nothing unusual and to beware of traps." "She has the feminine right to reconsider," Ranleigh reminded him. "However, I'll instruct the bureau to get busy and " "Wait until morning," Harleston interjected. "If Mrs. Clephane hasn't appeared by nine o'clock, I'll telephone you." Harleston leaned back in his chair frowning.
I hope to land it in a few days. If Marston has it, or gets it earlier, so much the better for us." Harleston had walked a block before he recollected that he was obligated to Ranleigh to go in a taxi. The one in which he had come from Headquarters he had dismissed, not knowing how long he would be at Carpenter's, and he had neglected to telephone for another.
"It all corresponds; slight, above medium-height, dark gown she affects dark gowns; but thousands of women are slight, above medium-height, and wear dark gowns." "At least it eliminates the very tall and the stout," Ranleigh observed. "Let me ask you, what do you make of Mrs. Winton's appointment at the Chateau at five, and her being gowned in black?" "A mere coincidence, I think.
When Ranleigh departed, after hearing a detailed account of the evening's doings at the hotel, Harleston sat for a little while thinking; finally he drew over a pad and made a list of things that required explanation, or seemed to require explanation, at the present stage of the matter: " The translation of the cipher letter. This should explain Madeline Spencer's connection with the affair.
Jones." "Yes, Mrs. Usselex." "Look in the orchestra, in the third row, the aisle seat on the left." "Yes, Mrs. Usselex." "There is a woman looking up here. She has just turned her head. Do you see her?" "That woman with the blonde hair?" "Yes; do you know her?" "No, I can't say I know her. But I know who she is " "Who is she?" "She has an apartment at the Ranleigh. Her name is Mrs. Feverill.
Ranleigh answered, then passed the instrument across to Harleston. "Is that you, Harleston?... This is Carpenter. I've just had a most amazing proposition made to me. It will keep until morning, but drop around at the Department about nine-thirty and I'll unburden myself." "Is it Marston?" Harleston asked. "Exactly; however did you guess it?" "However did you guess I was with Ranleigh?"
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