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Oppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips), 1866-1946

"The Black Box"


"It does seem as though that might be so," he assented grimly. "You will
kindly consider yourself under arrest, Quest. Ladies and gentlemen, will
you clear the room now, if you please? The ambulance I telephoned for is
outside."
The Professor, who had been looking on as though dazed, suddenly
intervened.
"Mr. French," he said earnestly, "I am convinced that you are making a
great mistake. In arresting and taking away Mr. Quest, you are removing
from us the one man who is likely to be able to clear up this mystery."
The Inspector pushed him gently on one side.
"You will excuse me, Professor," he said, "but this is no matter for
argument. If Mr. Quest can clear himself, no one will be more glad than
I."
Quest shrugged his shoulders.
"The Inspector will have his little joke," he observed drily. "It's all
right, girls. Keep cool," he went on, as he saw the tears in Lenora's
eyes. "Come round and see me in the Tombs, one of you."
"If I can be of any assistance," the Professor exclaimed, "I trust that
you will not fail to call upon me, Mr. Quest. I repeat, Inspector," he
added, "I am convinced that you are making a very grave mistake. Mrs.
Rheinholdt, you must let me take you home."
She gave him her arm.
"My jewels!" she sobbed. "Just as they had been recovered, too!"
"My dear lady," the Professor reminded her, with a faint air of reproach
in his tone, "I think we must remember that we are in the presence of a
graver tragedy than the loss of a few jewels.


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