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Rohmer, Sax, 1883-1959

"âst"


"I was not aware," he continued, his voice high-pitched and harsh,
"that you were acquainted. Inform me."
All the time he was peering about the room suspiciously, and:
"I inform you that we are not!" I said. "But if we were, I cannot
conceive that our acquaintance would concern you in any way."
"You are rude, sir!" he cried, and bent towards me so that I could see
the fierce hawk face set in a vicious scowl.
"I should be sorry to think so," I said indifferently; for the
Eurasian's behavior transcended the merely annoying and was that of a
lunatic. "I would not willingly provoke a sick man, and the tone and
manner of your address forcibly suggest to me that your temperature is
not normal."
A moment he stood bending towards me, his pose that of one about to
spring, then:
"Ah," he exclaimed, "yes, you are right, Mr. Addison. I live much
alone and I fear my manner grows brusk. Overlook it. She has gone,
then?"
"If you refer to a lady who called upon me half an hour ago--yes, she
is gone."
He drew himself upright again and stood there, gigantic in the little
room--a great, gaunt figure.
"Ah! And she was not my niece?"
"I lack the pleasure of your niece's acquaintance, Dr. Greefe."
"Yes. You said so. Good day, Mr. Addison."
He turned, lowered his head, and walked out of the room. When I, in
turn, emerged into the passage, I saw him striding out of the inn.
Martin was standing by the door of the bar-parlor looking very
confused; and as I joined him, intent upon a chat, I observed that the
shabby-looking stranger had departed.


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