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Freeman, R. Austin (Richard Austin), 1862-1943

"and edited by R. Austin Freeman"


"Why are we coming here?" I asked, as we ascended the stairs.
But the question needed no answer when we reached the landing, for
through the open door of our friend's chambers I could see in the
darkened room Anstey himself with two uniformed constables and a couple
of plain-clothes men.
"There has been no signal yet, sir," said one of the latter, whom I
recognized as a detective-sergeant of our division.
"No," said Thorndyke, "but the M.C. has arrived. He came in five minutes
before us."
"Then," exclaimed Anstey, "the ball will open shortly, ladies and gents.
The boards are waxed, the fiddlers are tuning up, and--"
"Not quite so loud, if you please, sir," said the sergeant. "I think
there is somebody coming up Crown Office Row."
The ball had, in fact, opened. As we peered cautiously out of the open
window, keeping well back in the darkened room, a stealthy figure crept
out of the shadow, crossed the road, and stole noiselessly into the
entry of Thorndyke's chambers. It was quickly followed by a second
figure, and then by a third, in which I recognized our elusive client.
"Now listen for the signal," said Thorndyke.


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