Jacobs laid his hand
on her arm, and said:
"No, don't throw them away! Give them to me, if you will. I should like
to keep them as a kind of memento, as a sort of warning for the future
not to be so clumsy."
With a shadow of a smile, she gave the two pieces of paper to him, and
as he took them he said,
"I've got my own fingers inked. Serve me right. I'll go and wash my
hands. Really, I shall never forgive myself! No wonder his lordship was
angry."
"Was he?" said Celia, absently. "Yes; he was. But you must remember Lord
Heyton is very much upset; when one's nerves are on the rack, the least
thing, trifling though it may be----"
"Quite so; quite so," said Mr. Jacobs, with a nod of comprehension.
He was still so much upset by the accident, that he forgot to wash his
hands and went straight to his sitting-room, still carrying the two
sheets of paper, the evidences of his inexcusable clumsiness.
CHAPTER XXVIII
That night, Inspector Brown confided his disappointment in the ways of
Scotland Yard to the wife of his bosom. He was a conscientious man; and
it seemed to him that, in the face of Mr. Jacobs' obvious incapacity, it
behoved him, Mr. Brown, to follow the case with renewed energy. So far
as the worthy Inspector could see, Mr. Jacobs was doing absolutely
nothing, save eat his meals, smoke his cigar, and stroll about the
grounds and admire the scenery.
Pages:
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313