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

2 страница из 41

There was no guess-work about this, neither had the detective been able to distinguish anything feminine about the knock.

Over the door was a peculiar little contrivance, which by means of several small mirrors would tell the occupant of the office who summoned him—a useful affair under the circumstances, as the detective might at some time have a visitor bent on taking his life, and under such circumstances he would be warned.

Jumping to his feet he approached the door—had it been a man he probably would have sung out: “Come in,” and been done with it.

A lady stood there.

She was deeply veiled, and yet there was that about her dress that bespoke the lady.

Darrell saw this at the first glance, and also judged from her figure that she was young.

“Is this the office of Mr. Darrell?” she asked, in low, pleasing tones.

“Yes, madam,” replied the other, respectfully.

“Is he in?”

“I am Eric Darrell, at your service. If you wish to see me on business will you come in?”

He stepped aside as he spoke.