Perhaps he will tell
us about it, and perhaps he will explain how he came to wander
through the Moore house while his wife lay dying below. At all
events we will give him the opportunity to do so and, if possible,
to clear up mysteries which provoke the worst kind of conjecture.
It is time. The ideas advanced by the papers foster superstition;
and superstition is the devil. Go and tell my man out there that
I am going to K Street. You may say 'we' if you like," he added
with a humor more welcome to me than any serious concession.
Did I feel set up by this? Rather.
Mr. Jeffrey was expecting us. This was evident from his first look,
though the attempt he made at surprise was instantaneous and very
well feigned. Indeed, I think he was in a constant state of
apprehension during these days and that no inroad of the police
would have astonished him. But expectation does not preclude dread;
indeed it tends to foster it, and dread was in his heart. This he
had no power to conceal.
"To what am I indebted for this second visit from you?" he asked of
Coroner Z., with an admirable presence of mind. "Are you not yet
satisfied with what we have been able to tell you of my poor wife's
unhappy end?"
"We are not," was the plain response. "There are some things you
have not attempted to explain, Mr.
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