Читать книгу Joe Leslie's Wife; or, a Skeleton in the Closet онлайн

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“Joe is a friend of mine, and yet if he is a villain—which I cannot believe—I will discover the proofs of it and hand them to you.”

“Mr. Darrell, I thank you,” she said, with tears in her eyes.

“There is no occasion for it, madam—this is business with me, leaving sentiment aside—I shall charge you my regular price for such work; but at the same time I honestly hope your husband will be able to prove his innocence.”

“Amen!” she said, solemnly.

At this moment there came a loud rap on the door—Mrs. Leslie uttered a little scream, which was pretty well muffled by the cobweb of a handkerchief she thrust up to her mouth.

As for Eric Darrell, the detective, he glanced up at the small tell-tale mirror just inside the transom over the door—his face was screwed up into a pucker, and pressing his finger on his lips he said in a low voice:

“Here’s a pretty kettle of fish! The man who knocks is your husband, Mrs. Leslie.”

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The pretty little lady came very near swooning when she heard this.