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Updated: June 18, 2025
Three or four days of the week the lady, he says, drives to her chemist's, and there she sits in the shop; round the corner, as you enter; and sees all Charing in the shop looking-glass at the back; herself a stranger spectacle, poor lady, if Carling's picture of her is not overdone; with her fashionable no-bonnet striding the contribution chignon on the crown, and a huge square green shade over her forehead.
He was an ex-convict, a hardened criminal caught red-handed with a portion of the proceeds of robbery he had succeeded in hiding the remainder of it too cleverly, that was all." Carling's face was ghastly. His hands went out again again his tongue moistened his dry lips. He whispered: "Isn't isn't there some some way we can fix this?" And then Jimmie Dale laughed not pleasantly.
Carling's remark that they had been almost afraid he had forgotten them embarrassed while it pleased him, and his explanations were somewhat lame. Miss Blake, as usual, came to the rescue, though John's disconcert was not lessened by the suspicion that she saw through his inventions. He had conceived a great opinion of that young person's penetration. His talk for a while was mostly with Mr.
But as time went on, and the frequency of John's visits and attentions grew into a settled habit, Mrs. Carling's uneasiness, with which perhaps was mingled a bit of curiosity, got the better of her reserve, and she determined to get what satisfaction could be obtained for it. They were sitting in Mrs. Carling's room, which was over the drawing-room in the front of the house.
And then, from first one pocket and then the other, Jimmie Dale took the two packages of banknotes, and, still with out a word, pushed them across the desk until they lay under the other's eyes. Carling's fingers stopped their drumming, slid to the desk edge, tightened there, and a whiteness crept into his face. Then, with an effort, he jerked himself erect in his chair.
I dare say it would take me half an hour to open it. I was rather curious to know whether it was locked or not." Carling's hand dropped to his side. "So!" he sneered. "That's it, is it! The ordinary variety of sneak thief!" His voice was rising gradually. "Well, sir, let me tell you that " "Mr.
"The servants are in bed, of course," he explained, as he led the way toward the lighted room. "This way, please." Behind the other, across the hall, Jimmie Dale followed and close at Carling's heels entered the room, which was fitted up, quite evidently regardless of cost, as a combination library and study.
Carling's maid. She had taken the letters from the postman, and she was going away with them upstairs. He stopped her, and asked her why she did not put the letters on the hall table as usual. The maid, looking very much confused, said that her mistress had desired that whatever the postman had brought that morning should be carried up to her room.
The white in Carling's face had turned to gray, his lips were working mechanically he sank down again in his chair. Jimmie Dale still leaned over the desk, resting his weight on his right elbow, the automatic in his right hand covering Carling. "You cur!" whispered Jimmie Dale. "There's just one reason, only one, that keeps me from putting a bullet through you while you sit there.
"Take this pen," said Jimmie Dale monotonously; "or THIS!" The automatic lifted until the muzzle was on a line with Carling's eyes. Carling's hand reached out, still shaking, and took the pen; and his body, dragged limply forward, hung over the desk. The pen spluttered on the paper a bead of sweat spurting from the man's forehead dropped to the sheet. There was silence in the room.
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