All this time I was sauntering idly up-town, and as I did so I fell in
with a stream of people coming from the Roman Catholic Cathedral.
Walking among them, I noticed a woman coming rapidly towards me, who
smiled at me encouragingly, even from quite a distance. Her face seemed
strangely familiar, although I was unable to place her. Where had I seen
those flashing black eyes before? Ah! I had it,--Mme. Argot. She was
alone, and as she came nearer I saw she not only recognised me, but that
she was intending to stop and speak to me. I was considerably surprised,
but slowed down also, and we were just opposite to each other when her
husband suddenly stepped to her side. A moment before I could have sworn
he was not in sight. It was quite uncanny. His wife started and glanced
fearfully at him, then tossing her head defiantly she swept past me with
a beaming bow. He took off his hat most respectfully, and his long
sallow face remained as expressionless as a mask. But I was sure that
his piercing black eyes looked at me with secret hostility. The whole
incident only occupied a minute, but it left a deep impression upon me,
and started me off on an entirely new train of thought. What had the
detective said? The guilty person must have been able to procure, for
some time, however short, the key to the vacant apartment. We only knew
of three people who were in a position to have done this. Miss Derwent,
the French butler--well, why not the French butler? Those eyes looked
capable of anything. I was sure that his wife was afraid of him, for I
was certain that she had meant to stop and speak to me, and had been
prevented from doing so by his sudden appearance. But what could she
have wished to say to me? And why that gleam of hatred in her husband's
eye? I felt myself so innocent towards them both. In fact, I had not
even thought of them since the eventful Thursday, and might easily have
passed her by unnoticed if she had not been so eager to attract my
attention. Well, it would be queer if I had tumbled on the solution of
the Rosemere mystery!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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