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Futrelle, Jacques, 1875-1912

"Elusive Isabel"

Now, why are you
here?"
He received no answer; he expected none. After a moment he went on:
"Admitting that you are a secret agent of Italy, admitting everything
that you claim to be, you haven't convinced me that you are not the
person who came here for the letters and cigarettes. You have said
nothing to prove to my satisfaction that you are not the individual I
was waiting for to-night."
"You don't mean that you suspect--?" she began in a tone of amazement.
"I don't mean that I suspect anything," he interposed. "I mean merely
that you haven't convinced me. There's nothing inconsistent in the fact
that you are what you say you are, and that in spite of that, you came
to-night for--"
He was interrupted by a laugh, a throaty, silvery note that he
remembered well. His idle hands closed spasmodically, only to be
instantly relaxed.
"Suppose, Mr. Grimm, I should tell you that immediately after Madame
Boissegur placed the matter in my hands this afternoon I went straight
to your office to show this letter to you and to ask your assistance?"
she inquired. "Suppose that I left my card for you with a clerk there on
being informed that you were out--remember I knew you were on the case
from Madame Boissegur--would that indicate anything except that I wanted
to put the matter squarely before you, and work with you?"
"We will suppose that much," Mr.


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