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She shuddered; yet it was not an unusual or a frightful sound, and not half so saddening as the sound that floated up the stairs: the sound of low, sweet singing-Mark Abrams singing with flute-like voice to her sister Sarah, who was soon, very soon, expected to become his wife.
Abrams still bore on her pale, calm face the marks of sorrow that had rested there since the terrible and mysterious death of her son. Without delay, and by dint of that skilful management which was characteristic of Rebecca, she approached the dreadful subject of Mark's death.
"Are any of them killed?" she asked in solicitous tones. "No. Porter is pretty badly hurt. We got him down from Livermore to- day. He was in the jail there, with Abrams and Brown. We gave bail for them, and all the men are back at the Montgomery Street place. Barkhouse is getting on all right, and there are a few bruises and cuts scattered around in my flock.
I had to make an impression on Panek so he'd introduce me to someone here on Sime who'd show me how to make some fast, big money, which is all I'm after," he retorted with a bravado he certainly didn't feel, but which he hoped would make them think he did. "When I found Panek was going to bump off Abrams, I horned in on it.
But the next day word ran about the ship that Abrams was very ill, and not expected to live the day out. Panek sauntered past where Hanlon was sitting, reading, and stopped to ask for a light. "Nice work, Pal, nice work," he whispered as he was lighting his cigaro. "See me at the Bacchus."
Brandon's bright and inquisitive eyes moved round the room, taking in the blue china, the hyacinth and the lamp. "Certingly," she said. "That must be Dr. Abrams. 'E lives in Cowley Street, No. 4 Dr. Emanuel Abrams. A good doctor when 'e's sober, and the morning's the best time to be sure of 'im. Certingly 'e's been in to see your friend several times. They've been merry together more than once."
The thanks in his gruff voice showed his respect for those silent, deadly little guns. That name Abrams rang a bell in Hanlon's mind, though he quickly decided he'd better let it lie for the moment file it away for future investigation. He smiled in comradely fashion. "The way you were walking into it made me sure you didn't know. And thanks. Maybe I will look you up.
Moss Abrams, had carried off, promising to have the bill "done" by a party with whose intimacy Mr. Abrams was favored. And it chanced that Strong heard of this transaction at the place where the writings had been drawn in the back parlor, namely, of Mr. Santiago's cigar-shop, where the chevalier was constantly in the habit of spending an hour in the evening. "He is at his old work again," Mr.
Alas!" she continued, with her dark eyes flashing, "but for a terrible lie, a cruel deception, I should still be the affianced of Mark Abrams, and happy in the hope of becoming his wife not an unhappy, disappointed girl, open to the flattery and fascinations of another man." "Keep your resolve, Leah, if you can; and may the all-wise Father give you strength," replied Lizzie.
He wiped his mouth, disappeared into another room, returned with a shabby black bag and a still shabbier top hat, and declared himself ready to start. "It's pneumonia," he told her as they went along. "Had it three weeks ago. Of course if he was out in yesterday's fog that finished him." "He was out," said Maggie, "for a long time." "Quite so," said Dr. Abrams.
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