That is why I put on
these togs. Yes, I know it is ghastly," I owned as she shuddered. "And
that is why I want to beg you, very seriously indeed, to let me drive
you back to Paris and put you under your friends' protection. After
that, of course, I'll return here to see the thing through and give my
testimony about it all."
It was not going to be so simple, the course I had outlined airily. When
I visioned myself explaining to a French _commissaire_ why I had come to
Bleau at all; why I had set up a false claim to be an artist,--for that
circumstance was sure to leak out and look darkly incriminating,--and
what had inspired me to take a murdered man's clothes and conceal his
body, I can't pretend that I felt much zest. Still, if the police and
the girl came together, worse would follow, I was certain; and it seemed
like a real catastrophe when she slowly shook her head.
"I can't," she murmured. "Oh, it's kind of you, and I'm sorry; but I
can't go back to Paris--not yet, Mr. Bayne. You won't understand, of
course, but I left there to--to accomplish something.
Pages:
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188