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

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Darrell came near laughing, as he believed he had the key to the puzzle. Unaccustomed to deceit, forsooth—when it was his own mysterious actions that had disturbed Lillian.

“Two weeks, you say, Joe?”

“Well, I knew something about it before then. Accident revealed it to me. I will tell you all, and you can judge for yourself.

“You know we live in a comfortable little house up on Eighty-sixth Street. I generally spend my days down-town at business, but I had a call up-town one morning, and my cabman drove me past my own house—I took a cab because the party I wished to see lived at a point inconvenient to the elevated, and besides I had a bushel of papers, more or less, to take him.

“While passing my house I naturally looked in.

“At that moment Lillian was opening the door and a fine-looking man entered whom she seemed to greet cordially. I wondered who he was, but forgot all about him until I came home in the evening. Somehow his face came up again before me—I waited to see if she would speak, and even made an opportunity for her to tell me of her visitor—she said nothing and I thought looked a trifle confused.