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

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At any rate it was a piece of good fortune for all parties concerned.

He proceeded to question Joe, desiring to learn all he could of the case.

“You say you had never seen the gentleman before?”

“Never.”

“Not in your wife’s album?”

“You mean that he might be one of her old beaux—no, not even there. He is a stranger to me.”

“But if you met him you would know him?”

“Well, rather.”

“Can you describe him to me?”

“I can do better—show you a picture of him just as he leaves my front door.” With that he held out a card, upon which was a round photograph, or rather picture, which Eric saw had been taken with a Kodak camera, just coming into general use at that time.

The scene was a door-step with a number over the door—a man was descending—the lower part of his body could not be seen, but his body and head were well taken. He carried something under his arm like a flat book.

Eric Darrell studied the face as well as he could upon such a small surface—he wanted to know it again.

Then he looked further.