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Stevenson, Burton Egbert, 1872-1962

"The Mystery of the Boule Cabinet A Detective Story"


"Best lie down again," said the doctor soothingly. "You're a little
wobbly yet, you know."
"Where am I?" gasped Simmonds. Then his eyes encountered mine.
"Lester!" he said. "Where is he--Piggott? Not...."
He stopped short, looked once around at the gleaming marble of the
bank, fumbled for something at his side, and fell senseless on the
seat.
I have no recollection of how I got back to the Marathon. I suppose I
must have walked; but my first distinct remembrance is of finding
myself sitting in my favourite chair, pipe in hand. The pipe was lit,
so I suppose I must have lighted it mechanically, and I found that I
had also mechanically changed into my lounging-coat. I glanced at my
watch and saw that it was nearly four o'clock.
The top of my head was burning as though with fever, and I went into
the bathroom and turned the cold water on it. The shock did me a
world of good, and by the time I had finished a vigorous toweling I
felt immensely better. So I returned to my chair and sat down to
review the events of the evening; but I found that somehow my brain
refused to work, and black circles began to whirl before my eyes
again.
"I told Godfrey I couldn't stand any more of this," I muttered, and
stumbled into my bedroom, undressed with difficulty, and turned out
the light.


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