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

"and edited by R. Austin Freeman"

He caught my
eye, and beckoned, whereupon I crept away unnoticed by the party on the
landing. When I reached the hall, he was wrapping up three small
objects, each in a separate cigarette-paper; and I noticed that he
handled them with more than ordinary tenderness.
"We didn't want to see that poor devil of a girl arrested," said he, as
he deposited the three little packets gingerly in his pocket-box. "Let
us be off." He opened the door noiselessly, and stood for a moment,
turning the latch backwards and forwards, and closely examining its
bolt.
I glanced up at the shelf behind the door. On it were two flat china
candlesticks, in one of which I had happened to notice, as we came in, a
short end of candle lying in the tray, and I now looked to see if that
was what Thorndyke had annexed; but it was still there.
I followed my colleague out into the street, and for some time we walked
on without speaking. "You guessed what the sergeant had in that paper,
of course," said Thorndyke at length.
"Yes. It was the hair from the dead woman's hand; and I thought that he
had much better have left it there.


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