The Mystery of the Clasped Hands: A NovelBoothby, Guy
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The Mystery of the Clasped Hands: A Novel
Boothby, Guy
Detective and mystery stories; Fiction
“To England?” she said, and then uttered a little sigh as if the very
name of that country conjured up sad memories. “It is cold and wet in
England now; and do you remember how the studio chimney smoked?”
This apparently irrelevant remark caused them both to laugh, but their
mirth had not altogether a happy sound.
“I am going to give up the studio,” he answered. “I expect that for the
future I shall do my work in the country. But you are not looking well,
Teresina!”
“I am quite well,” she answered, hurriedly. How was he to know that for
many weeks past she had been eating her heart out for love of him? If
the whole world seemed dark to her now it was because he, her sun, no
longer shone upon her.
“And your mother, the signora, how wrong of me not to have inquired
after her. I trust she is well?”
“Quite well, signor,” she replied. “She often talks of you. She is at
Sorrento to-day, but she may be back at any minute. She would have liked
to have seen you, signor, to have thanked you for your great goodness to
us.”
“Nonsense,” said Henderson, hurriedly. “It is the other way round. My
thanks are due to you. Had it not been for your face, Teresina, my
picture would never have been such a success. Do you know that several
ladies, great ladies in England, said that they would give anything to
be so beautiful? I don’t think I shall ever do a better piece of work
than that.”
He had just said this when he noticed that a young man, tall, slim, and
very dark, had approached them unperceived, and was now glaring angrily
at him. Teresina had also become aware of his presence, and was visibly
affected by it. Whereas only a moment before she had been all sunshine
and delight at seeing Henderson once more, now she was quite the
reverse.
“Is this man a friend of yours?” Godfrey asked, in English. “He seems
to be put out about something.”
“It is only Tomasso Dardini,” she answered, as if the explanation were
sufficient. “He is quick-tempered, but he means no harm.”
“Then I wish to goodness he’d go away; he glares as if he would like to
eat me. If I may hazard a guess, Teresina, I should say that he is in
love with you.”
“He is very foolish,” she answered, and a flush spread over her face.
“Some day, if he is not very careful, he will get into trouble.”
“I should not be at all surprised to hear it,” Godfrey replied.
Then, turning to the man in question, he signed to him to be off about
his business. For a moment the youth seemed inclined to refuse, but
presently he thought better of it, and marched off down the street,
looking back now and again as if to see whether the Englishman and the
girl were still conversing together.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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