From INBOX

The House of the Arrow (A. E. W. Mason)

Hanaud exhorted her with a friendly smile and Ann joined the others in the dark hall. Somehow she stood upright, swaying as she stood. Frobisher led the way along the passage until the foot of another flight of steps was reached.

They did not quite close, and between them a golden strip of light showed like a wand.

We, Girardot shall make the laughter at the Assize Court! Hanaud stole over the boards and laid his ear to the panel. The man who had closed the door moved to his side as he dismounted. Hanaud had given credit to him for an astuteness which he did not possess.

Tomorrow you will tell me why you went to Madame Le Vay’s ball. Hanaud’s voice called to them from within the room. To the surprise of those three a second shadow flitted to her side.

It is exact to the minute, he declared with a little accent of triumph. Yes, Hanaud explained, as the door closed upon the Commissaire. It is exact to the minute, he declared with a little accent of triumph. Hanaud exhorted her with a friendly smile and Ann joined the others in the dark hall.

She was cold, as though she had slept long in her arm-chair. Tomorrow you will tell me why you went to Madame Le Vay’s ball. There Madame Raviart came to live whilst she waited to be set free. Thank you, Monsieur, she replied with a wan effort at a smile. But there was more romance in that, to be sure.

He drew his coat closely about it and for a fraction of a second flashed his torchlight on the dial. You sent me to Madame Le Vay’s—on purpose. He turned the key and drew the door towards him. The two figures at the window flitted back across the gallery.

Hanaud closed the door upon them and returned to the clock. A moan of pain broke from her lips, and with that consciousness returned to her. Ann shivered at the memories of that night, but she answered quietly: Yes.

Jim Frobisher was driven to the little Louis Quinze clock upon the marquetry cabinet. It remained low and quiet, but hatred crept into it, a deep, whole-hearted hatred. She sprang up now to her full height, her heels together, her arms outstretched from her sides. What were you doing in the treasure-room yesterday evening with your watch in your hand?

And you, Monsieur Frobisher, will you release that young lady, if you please!