At any rate she must see me. Her husband sat in a chair beside her bed, his head in his hands. CHAPTER XVI. He's a Welshman, and I wouldn't for a trifle that any accident befel him. ” The detective thrust his notebook into his pocket. He eyed the young couple with the tragic history behind them, and could only suppose that familiarity had dulled their senses. “There are two things to be done,” he said softly to himself. Anna tore it open and passed it to Courtlaw. In the afternoon he probably loafs in his pajamas. She fell into another slumber, one which was more like a blackout. His countenance was pale as death, but not a muscle quivered; nor did he betray the slightest appearance of fear.
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