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Stevenson, Burton Egbert, 1872-1962

"The Mystery of the Boule Cabinet A Detective Story"

I've had to put in an air filter,
too; and double windows in the bedrooms to keep out the noise; but I
dare say I can manage to hang on."
"I can understand how you'd hate to move into a new house," I said.
Vantine made a grimace.
"I couldn't endure a new house. I'm used to this one--I can find my
way about in it; I know where things are. I've grown up here, you
know; and, as a man gets older, he values such associations more and
more. Besides, a new house would mean new fittings, new furniture--"
He paused and glanced about the room. Every piece of furniture in it
was the work of a master.
"I suppose you found some new things while you were away?" I said.
"You always do. Your luck's proverbial."
"Yes--and it's that I wanted to talk to you about, I brought back six
or eight pieces; I'll show them to you presently. They are all pretty
good, and one is a thing of beauty. It's more than that--it's an
absolutely unique work of art. Only, unfortunately, it isn't mine."
"It isn't yours?"
"No; and I don't know whose it is. If I did, I'd go buy it. That's
what I want you to do for me. It's a Boule cabinet--the most
exquisite I ever saw."
"Where did it come from?" I questioned, more and more surprised.


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