Great Porter Square: A Mystery. v. 3Farjeon, B. L. (Benjamin Leopold)
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Great Porter Square: A Mystery. v. 3
Farjeon, B. L. (Benjamin Leopold)
Detective and mystery stories; Fiction
"When I went into Mr. Pelham's room, yesterday," she said, "in
Buckingham Palace Road, I didn't suspect anything at first. I didn't
like his looks, but that was nothing. There are lots of people I don't
like the looks of. I remained there while he threw away the letter, and
while he drank and smoked. He was drinking wine, and he emptied three
glasses one after another. It wasn't till he got up and went to his desk
that I noticed something--a twitch of his left shoulder upwards, just as
a man does when he shrugs his shoulders. But Mr. Pelham did not shrug
his two shoulders, he shrugged one--the left one. I only knew one other
man who did with his left shoulder what Mr. Pelham did, and I thought it
funny. While he was writing his letter he threw away his cigar, and took
a cigarette, and the way he put it into his mouth and rolled it between
his lips was just the same as the other man who twitched his shoulder
as Mr. Pelham did. Well, as I walked back to Mrs. Holdfast's house, I
seemed to see the two men--Mr. Pelham and the other, shrugging their
left shoulders, and rolling their cigarettes in their mouths, and what
they did was as like as two peas, though they were two different men,
though one was poor and the other rich. I couldn't help calling myself a
little fool when the idea came to me that they were not different men
at all, and I said to myself, 'What do they mean by it? No good, that's
certain.' So I made up my mind to do something, and I did it to-day.
"First, there was Richard Manx. I watched him out of the house. He came
down from his garret a little after twelve; I stood in the dark passage,
and watched him coming downstairs; he seemed to be out of temper, and he
gave the wall a great blow with his hand. I think he would have liked to
hear it cry out, so that he might be sure he had hurt it. I thought I
shouldn't like him to strike _me_ in that way--but I don't suppose he
would if any one was looking. He would have hit me as he hit the wall,
if he had known what I was up to--that is, if nobody was near.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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