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Rohmer, Sax, 1883-1959

"The Yellow Claw"


"I will go down and see Leroux," he announced quietly. "His sorrow
hitherto has been secondary to his indignation. Possibly ignorance in
this case is preferable to the truth, but nevertheless I am determined
to tell him what I know. Give me ten minutes or so, and then join me.
Are you agreeable?"
"Quite," said Helen.
Dr. Cumberly departed upon his self-imposed mission.


XXV
FATE'S SHUTTLECOCK

Some ten minutes later, Helen Cumberly and Denise Ryland were in turn
admitted to Henry Leroux's flat. They found him seated on a couch in
his dining-room, wearing the inevitable dressing-gown. Dr. Cumberly, his
hands clasped behind him, stood looking out of the window.
Leroux's pallor now was most remarkable; his complexion had assumed an
ivory whiteness which lent his face a sort of statuesque beauty. He was
cleanly shaven (somewhat of a novelty), and his hair was brushed back
from his brow. But the dark blue eyes were very tragic.
He rose at sight of his new visitors, and a faint color momentarily
tinged his cheeks. Helen Cumberly grasped his outstretched hand, then
looked away quickly to where her father was standing.
"I almost thought," said Leroux, "that you had deserted me."
"No," said Helen, seeming to speak with an effort--"we--my father,
thought--that you needed quiet.


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