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I don't know anything about him I don't want to know anything about him. I simply beg you, for Ruth's sake, to keep out of trouble." Isaac laughed harshly. "You talk like a young fool!" he declared, turning on his heel. The apartments of Count Sabatini were situated in the somewhat unfamiliar quarter of Queen Anne's Gate.
Arnold looked suddenly into the muzzle of a small, shining revolver. "It was very foolish of you to give me that information," Sabatini said. "You have not forgotten our long conversation, I trust? I expounded to you most carefully the creed of my life. Five hundred pounds, if you please," he added, politely.
If there is any information I can give you on behalf of your sister or yourself, I shall be very happy to come back if you will send for me." He bustled out, closing the door after him. Sabatini looked around with a faint smile, as though his surroundings amused him. He then carefully deposited his gloves with his hat, selected the most comfortable chair, and seated himself.
Sabatini gazed thoughtfully across the table into his guest's face. "I do not know your history or your parentage," he went on. "Such knowledge is unnecessary. It is obvious that your position at the present moment is the result of an accident." "It is the outcome of actual poverty," Arnold told him softly. Sabatini assented. "Ah! well," he said, "it is a poverty, then, which you have accepted.
I saw his hand grasping the window-sill. He was wearing a ring a signet ring with a blood-red stone." "This is most engrossing," Sabatini murmured. "A signet ring with a blood-red stone! Wasn't there a ring answering to that description upon the finger of the man who stabbed Rosario?" "There was," Arnold answered. Sabatini knocked the ash from his cigarette.
Evidently he had either been only stunned and had got up and left the room by the window, or he had accomplices who had fetched him away. Mr. Weatherley was very much annoyed with us and we had to make excuses to the doctor. Then I left." "Well?" Sabatini said. "You left. You didn't come straight here?" Arnold shook his head.
"How are you, my young friend?" he asked, smiling at Arnold. "Immersed in business, I suppose?" "We are very busy, naturally," Arnold answered. "Please come in and sit down." Sabatini laid his hat and stick upon the table and commenced leisurely to draw off his gloves. "This is Mr. Jarvis, who has been Mr.
They say that Mr. Weatherley was wrecked there and Sabatini locked him up in a dungeon and refused to let him go until he promised to marry his sister." "There are a good many men in the world, I should think," Arnold murmured, "who would like to be locked up on similar conditions." She looked at him with a queer little smile. "I suppose it is inevitable," she declared.
I do not grumble at the charge of her, for when I was nearly starving she was kind to me, and we passed our darkest days together. On the other hand, I know that she feels it keenly, and I think it is only right to try and find out if she has no relatives or friends who could possibly look after her." "It is perfectly reasonable," Sabatini confessed.
"I do not believe," she declared, "that Count Sabatini would be mixed up in anything dishonorable. Women so seldom make a mistake, you know," she continued, "and I never met any one in my life who seemed so kind and gentle." Arnold sighed. "I wish I could tell you everything," he said, "then I think you would really be as bewildered as I am. Mr.
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