Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"Then why is young Henfrey being made the victim?" asked The Sparrow shrewdly. "Why, indeed, have you not revealed this to me before?" "Because I had no proof before that Howell is our enemy. He has now given us away. He has some motive. What is it?" The bristly-haired little man of twenty names and as many individualities pondered for a moment.
The Sparrow's visitor gave vent to a low whistle. "They intend to get old Henfrey's money?" "Yes and they will if we are not very wary," declared the little, bristly-haired old gentleman known as The Sparrow. "The boy has been entirely entrapped. They made one faux pas, and it is upon that we may if we are careful get the better of them. I don't like the situation at all.
The crowds surged along the wet sidewalks and overflowed into the street, and over the heads of the people I stared at the blazing shop-windows decked out in Christmas greens. My chauffeur, a bristly-haired Parisian, blew his horn insolently, men and women jostled each other to get out of the way, their holiday mood giving place to resentment as they stared into the windows of the limousine.
"Agreed," replied the man with the black glove. "The problem we have to solve is who was responsible for your father's death." "Yes," said Hugh. "If that shot had not been fired I should have known the truth." "You think, then, that Mademoiselle of Monte Carlo would have told you the truth?" asked the bristly-haired man with a mysterious smile. "Yes. She would." "Well, Mr.
And while the chairman believed by those who attended to be The Sparrow himself sat there, the bristly-haired, rather insignificant-looking little man occupied a seat in a far-off corner, from where he scrutinized his guests very closely, and smiled at the excellent manner in which his deputy performed the duties of chairman.
Slimly and straightly he had shot up into an unmannered, a short, even a bristly-haired young manhood, disqualifying by a close shave for the older school of hirsute virtuosity. But his nerves did not spare him. On concert nights they seemed to emerge almost to the surface of him and shriek their exposure. "Just feel my hands, ma. Like ice."
I questioned her. She was discreet, it seems. Or at least, she declares that she was." "That's a good feature. But, speaking frankly, have you any idea of the identity of the person man or woman who attempted to kill Yvonne?" asked Howell. "I have a suspicion a pretty shrewd suspicion," replied the little bristly-haired man. His companion was silent.
So he would pass on his way, shattering the peaceful air at half-minute intervals with his bilingual disharmonies. He was pallid, meagerly built, stoop-shouldered, bristly-haired, pock-marked, and stiff-gaited, with a face which would have been totally insignificant but for an obstinate chin and a pair of velvet-black, pathetically questioning eyes; and he was incurably an outlander.
Indeed it was by that description he was registered in the archives of the Surete, with the observation that notwithstanding his foreign name he was an Englishman of highest standing. It was never dreamed that the bristly-haired alert little man, who was so often seen in the salerooms of Paris when antique silver was being sold, was the notorious Sparrow.
The crowds surged along the wet sidewalks and overflowed into the street, and over the heads of the people I stared at the blazing shop-windows decked out in Christmas greens. My chauffeur, a bristly-haired Parisian, blew his horn insolently, men and women jostled each other to get out of the way, their holiday mood giving place to resentment as they stared into the windows of the limousine.
Word Of The Day