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Darling, I didnt mean a word of those dreadful things Isaid.
Thats why I never
went about with her or saw much of her. Before the twenty-sixth house in the
road Mr. ReederAuthor: Edgar WallaceONETHE POETICAL POLICEMANTHE day Mr.
He was
so near the point of collapse that Burnett had to assist him intothe street.
Hartand may be reprinted only when these eBooks are free of all fees. The
outrageous incongruity of a poetical policeman did not seem to shockthe
detective. The outrageous incongruity of a poetical policeman did not seem to
shockthe detective.
Immediately after I saw him, my footstruck against a piece
of iron on the sidewalk.
There came to her face in that second a look which
almost startled him.
His wrists were handcuffed, two straps had been
tightlybuckled about his knees and ankles. I havent had the pleasure of meeting
youbefore, but Ive heard a lot about you.
It was not an ingenious story, he
said, almost with regret.
A pallid man, inclined to be bald, with a limp yellow
moustache, goinggrey.
I had meantto refuse, but I think Ill have to accept. The
light was fading from a grey, blustering sky, and rain was fallingfitfully,
when Mr. Reeder, hanging up his immaculateumbrella. The explanation for the
strange and sickly aroma was now clear. He sounds rather like a potential
murderer to me, he said cynically.
He saw a dull flush come to her face and die
away again.
With his life at stake one may forgive andindeed condone his
pitiful prevarications.
Behind him she recogniseda detective engaged in the
case.
You were born on theseventeenth of October. Not till she found that word
could she stop being a wind andbe Jane Stuart again.
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