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Updated: May 4, 2025
He was not prepared to remain there and witness his dear daughter's grief and humiliation, so he deemed it wiser to get away in safety to England, for he no longer trusted Weirmarsh. Suppose the doctor revealed the actual truth by means of some anonymous communication?
It . . . it cannot be true. . . . Don't delay. Come quickly. . . . Can't write more. Harry." Walter paused for a second after reading through that dramatic letter, the last effort of a dying man. "And that scoundrel Weirmarsh killed him because he feared exposure," he remarked in a low, hard voice. "Why did you not bring this forward at the inquest?" "For several reasons," replied the girl.
I shall call to-morrow at noon, and we will discuss the matter further." The general did not reply for a few seconds. But Weirmarsh had already realised that reflection had brought his victim to a calmer state of mind. "I will not listen to you," the old man growled. "But I shall speak whether you listen or not. Remember, I am not a man to be fooled by talk.
"Have you heard of the doctor since you left London?" he asked. She held her breath only for a single second. But her hesitation was sufficient to show him that she intended to conceal the truth. "No," was her reply. "He has not written to me." Again he was silent. There was a reason a strong reason why Weirmarsh should not write to her, he knew.
"And during the time you were at the King's Head, did the doctor ever visit Sir Hugh?" "Yes; the doctor stayed several times at the Royal at Lowestoft. We both motored over on several occasions and dined with him. Doctor Weirmarsh was not well, so he had gone to the east coast for a change." "And he also came over to Beccles to see your stepfather?" "Yes; twice, or perhaps three times.
"You recollect that you promised to obtain something a little tittle-tattle concerning a lady." "Yes," snapped the old officer, "oh, Lady Wansford. Let us talk of something else!" Weirmarsh, who had been narrowly watching the countenance of his victim, saw that he had mentioned a disagreeable subject.
"And I think you know me well enough to be aware that when Dr. Weirmarsh sets his mind upon a thing he is not easily turned aside." A slight, almost imperceptible, shudder ran through her. But Weirmarsh detected it, and knew that this girl of extraordinary and mysterious charm was as wax in his hands. In the presence of the man who had cast such a strange spell about her she was utterly helpless.
Thereupon the doctor insisted that his friend, whose name was Gustav Heureux, should accompany him home. So twenty minutes later they alighted from a taxi-cab in the Vauxhall Bridge Road, and entered the shabby little room wherein Weirmarsh schemed and plotted.
Around her throat was a white feather boa, while her features were half concealed by the veil she wore. "Ah, my dear young lady," cried Weirmarsh, rising quickly and greeting her, while next moment he turned to his table and hastily concealed the foreign letter and notes, "I had quite forgotten that you were to consult me. Pray forgive me."
And yet, after the stress of war, she had sacrificed all that she held most dear in order to become the friend of Weirmarsh. Why? "Enid," he said at last, his tender hand still upon her shoulder, "why did you not tell me your true position? You were working in the same direction, with the same strong motive of patriotism, as myself!" She was silent, very pale, and very serious.
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