I turned back to the outer room.
Rogers was sitting crouched forward in his chair, his hands over his
eyes, and I could feel him jerk with nervousness as I touched him on
the shoulder.
"Oh, is it you, Mr. Lester?" he gasped. "Pardon me, sir; I'm not at
all myself, sir."
"I can see that," I said, soothingly; "and no wonder. I just wanted
to ask you--did you help move any of the furniture in the room
yonder?"
"Help move it, sir?"
"Yes--help change the position of any of it since this afternoon?"
"No, sir; I haven't touched any of it, sir."
"That's all right, then," I said, and turned back into the inner
room.
Vantine had said that he intended examining the cabinet in detail at
the first opportunity; I remembered how his eyes had gleamed as he
looked at it; how his hand had trembled as he caressed the
arabesques. No doubt he was making that examination when he had heard
a woman's cry and had gone out into the hall to see what the matter
was.
Then he and the woman had entered the ante-room together; he had
closed the door; and then....
Like a lightning-flash, a thought leaped into my brain--a reason--an
explanation--wild, improbable, absurd, but still an explanation!
I choked back the cry which rose to my lips; I gripped my hands
behind me, in a desperate attempt to hold myself in check; and,
fascinated as by a deadly serpent, I stood staring at the cabinet.
Pages:
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74