Murder!, Arnold Bennett [romantic love story reading TXT] 📗

time satisfactorily demonstrated in his own unique, rapid way, that police-officers were a set of numskulls, bade the Superintendent a most courteous good evening, nodded amicably to the detective-sergeant, and left in triumph.

VII

“I must get some mourning and go back to the flat,” said Emily Franting.

She was sitting one morning in the lobby of the Palads Hotel, Copenhagen. Lomax Harder had just called on her with an English newspaper containing an account of the inquest at which the jury had returned a verdict of suicide upon the body of her late husband. Her eyes filled with tears.

“Time will put her right,” thought Lomax Harder, tenderly watching her. “I was bound to do what I did. And I can keep a secret for ever.”