Meanwhile, the visitor, finding that the clear-eyed young man seated in
an easy chair (from which he had not risen) could seemingly regard him
with blank indifference during the next hour, thought fit to say
something.
"Is my name familiar to you, Mr. Grant?" he inquired.
The voice was astonishingly soft and pleasant, and the accent agreeably
refined. Evidently, there were surprising points about Mr. Ingerman. Long
afterwards, Grant learned, by chance, that the man had been an actor
before branching off into that mysterious cosmopolitan profession known
as "a financier."
"No," said Grant. "I have heard it very few times. Once, about three
years ago, and today, when I mentioned it to the police."
The other man's sallow cheeks grew a shade more sallow. Grant supposed
that this slight change of color indicated annoyance. Of course, the
association of ideas in that curt answer was intolerably rude. But Grant
had been tried beyond endurance that day. He was in a mood to be brusque
with an archbishop.
"We can disregard your confidences, or explanations, to the
police," said Ingerman smoothly. "Three years ago, I suppose, my
wife spoke of me?"
"If you mean Miss Adelaide Melhuish--yes.
Pages:
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70