I am bound to admit
that there is a certain amount of fascination to me in the contemplation
of any such thing. The murder of that poor girl, for instance, who was
proposing to give you information, interests me exceedingly."
Duncombe shuddered at the recollection. The whole scene was before him
once more, the whole series of events which had made his stay in Paris
so eventful. He laid his hand upon Spencer's arm.
"Spencer," he said, "you speak as though your task were accomplished. It
isn't. Phyllis Poynton may indeed be where you say, but if so it is
Phyllis Poynton with the halter about her neck, with the fear of
terrible things in her heart. It is not you nor I who is the jailer of
her captivity. It is some power which has yet to be discovered. Our task
is not finished yet. To-night I will try to question her about this
network of intrigue into which she seems to have been drawn. If she will
see you, you too shall ask her about it. Don't think of deserting us
yet."
"My dear Duncombe," Spencer said, "I may as well confess at once that
the sole interest I felt in Lord Runton's offer was that it is closely
connected with the matter we have been discussing.
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