Читать книгу The Complete Works of F. Scott Fitzgerald онлайн

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We followed Smidy down the street until we arrived at a corner house. The ground floor was occupied by a cigar store, but the second floor was evidently for rent. As we stood there a face appeared at the window and, seeing us, hastily retreated. Syrel pulled a picture from his pocket. “It’s she!” he exclaimed, and calling us to follow he dashed into a little side door. We heard voices upstairs, a shuffle of feet and a noise as if a door had been shut.

“Up the stairs!” shouted Syrel, and we followed him, taking two steps at a bound. As we reached the top landing we were met by a young man.

“What right have you to enter this house?” he demanded.

“The right of the law,” replied Syrel.

“I didn’t do it,” broke out the young man. “It was this way. Agnes Raymond loved me—she did not love Standish—he shot her; and God did not let her murder go unrevenged. It was well Mrs. Raymond killed him, for his blood would have been on my hands. I went back to see Agnes before she was buried. A man came in. I knocked him down. I didn’t know until a moment ago that Mrs. Raymond had killed him.”