The Postmaster's Daughter by Louis Tracy
page 41 of 292 (14%)
page 41 of 292 (14%)
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"Why?"
"Surely you see, Mr. Grant, that Miss Melhuish might be, probably was, watching your star-gazing, especially as your pupil chanced to be, shall I say, a remarkably attractive young lady ... No, no," for Grant's anger was unmistakable--"It does no good to blaze out in protest. An unhappy combination of circumstances must be faced candidly. Here are you and a pretty girl together in a garden at a rather late hour, and a woman whom you once wanted to marry spying on you, in all likelihood. I've met a few coroner's juries in my time, and not one of them but would deem the coincidence strange, to put it mildly." "What in Heaven's name are you driving at?" "You must not impute motives, sir. I am seeking them, not supplying them." "But what am I to say?" "Perhaps you will now tell me just how Miss Melhuish and you parted." The fencers were coming to close quarters. Even P. C. Robinson had to admit that his "boss" had cornered the suspect rather cleverly. Grant realized that there was no room for squeamishness in this affair. If he did not speak out now, his motives might be woefully misunderstood. "We parted in wrath and tears," he said sadly. "Miss Melhuish could not, or did not, appreciate my scruples. She professed to be in love with me. She even went so far as to threaten suicide. I--hardly believed in her |
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