"
"Did your French father marry a Jap?" inquired Hart, with sudden
interest.
"And now you're insulting my mother," yelped the detective.
"Not I. You know nothing about the finest race of little women in the
world, or you would not even imagine such rubbish."
"But why, why, didn't you tell me that you saw someone outside?"
"You wouldn't have believed me. The goblin was disappearing. I had to
shoot quick."
"Why shoot at all?"
"Sir, there are certain manifestations I object to on principle. What
self-respecting ghost ever wore whiskers?"
"This was no ghost. You shot the man's hat off."
"Then what the blazes are you growling at? Had I, in blood-curdling
whisper, told you that once again there was a face at the window, you
would have scoffed at me. The ill-looking scamp caught my eye after his
first glance at Grant. He was mizzling when I fired. You would have sat
there and argued about hypnosis, with our worthy author's skilled
support. And there would have been no hat! I do an admirable bit of trick
shooting, yet I am only reviled for my dexterity. Really, Charles
Francois!"
"Ah! You remember, at last," and the detective smiled sourly.
Pages:
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152