The Kingdom of the BlindOppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips)
General
The Kingdom of the Blind
Oppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips)
Fiction; Spy stories
He leaned a little towards her. If she had been looking she could
scarcely have failed to have been touched by the sudden softness of his
dark eyes, the little note of appeal in his usually immobile face. Her
eyes, however, were fixed upon the diamond ring which sparkled upon her
third finger. Slowly she drew it off and handed it to him.
“Hugh,” she said, “the things you speak of do not exist any more between
us. I am sorry, but I think you are narrow and suspicious. You have
your own work to do. It seems to me mean to spend your time suspecting
soldiers who have fought for their king and their country, of such a
despicable crime.”
“Can’t you trust me a little more than that, Geraldine?” he asked
wistfully.
“In what way?” she demanded. “I judge only by the facts, the things you
have said to me, your accusations against Captain Granet. Why should you
go out of your way to investigate cases of suspected espionage?”
“You cannot believe that I would do so unless I was convinced that it
was my duty?”
“I cannot see that it is your business at all,” she told him shortly.
He rose from his place.
“I am very sorry, Geraldine,” he said. “I will keep this ring. You are
quite free. But--look at me.”
Against her will she was forced to do as he bade her. Her own attitude,
which had appeared to her so dignified and right, seemed suddenly
weakened. She had the feeling of a peevish child.
“Geraldine,” he begged, “take at least the advice of a man who loves
you. Wait.”
Even when he had opened the door she felt a sudden inclination to call
him back. She heard him go down the hall, heard the front door open and
close. She sat and looked in a dazed sort of way at the empty space
upon her finger. Then she rose and went into the drawing-room, where her
father and mother were still reading. She held out her hand.
“Mother,” she announced, “I am not engaged to Major Thomson any more.”
The Admiral laid down his newspaper.
“Damned good job, too!” he declared. “That young fellow Granet’s worth a
dozen of him. Never could stick an Army Medical. Well, well! How did he
take it?”
Lady Conyers watched her daughter searchingly. Then she shook her head.
“I hope you have done wisely, dear,” she said.
CHAPTER XIII
At a little after noon on the following day Captain Granet descended
from a taxicab in the courtyard of the Milan Hotel, and, passing
through the swing doors, made his way to the inquiry office. A suave,
black-coated young clerk hastened to the desk.
“Can you tell me,” Granet inquired, “whether a gentlemen named Guillot
is staying here?”
The young man bowed.
“Monsieur Guillot arrived last night, sir,” he announced. “He has just
rung down to say that if a gentlemen called to see him he could be
shown up. Here, page,” he went on, turning to a diminutive youth in the
background, “show this gentleman to number 322.”
Granet followed the boy to the lift and was conducted to a room on the
third floor. The door was opened by a tall, white-haired Frenchman.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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