"I think you had better write him a note," suggested Craig, as we
entered the living room. "I don't want you to see him until you
feel better--and, by the way, see him here."
She nodded with a wan smile, as though thinking how unusual it was
for a meeting of lovers to be an ordeal, then excused herself to
write the note.
She had no sooner disappeared than Kennedy unwrapped the package
which I had brought. From it he took a cedar box, oblong, with a
sort of black disc fixed to an arm on the top. In the face of the
box were two little square holes, with sides of cedar which
converged inward into the box, making a pair of little
quadrangular pyramidal holes which ended in a small black circle
in the interior.
He looked about the room quickly. Beside a window that opened out
over a house several stories below stood a sectional bookcase.
Into this bookcase, back of the books, in the shadow, he shoved
the little box, to which he had already attached a spool of
twisted wires. Then he opened the window and dropped the spool
out, letting it unwind of its own weight until it fell on the roof
far below. He shut the window and rejoined me without a word.
A moment later she returned with the dainty note which she had
written.
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