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

"The Black Box"

I am very glad
to hear it. It is some time since I saw Bombay, and the thought of these
long days of complete peace fills me with a most indescribable
satisfaction."
Quest grunted a little as he knocked the ash from his cigar.
"Not much of the bloodhound about the Professor," he remarked. "What about
you, Lenora?"
She smiled at him.
"I agree entirely with the Professor," she murmured, "except that I am not
quite so sure that I appreciate the rhythmical movement of the boat as he
seems to. For the rest, I have just that feeling that I would like to go
on and on and forget all the horrible things that have happened, to live
in a sort of dream, and wake up in a world from which Craig had vanished
altogether."
"Enervating effect this voyage seems to be having upon you all," Quest
grumbled. "Even Harris there looks far too well contented with life."
The detective smiled. He was young and fresh-coloured, with a shrewd but
pleasant face. He glanced involuntarily at Laura as he spoke.
"Well, Mr. Quest," he said, "I didn't bring you on the steamer so I don't
feel any responsibility about it, but I must confess that I am enjoying
the trip. I haven't had a holiday this year."
Quest struggled to his feet and threw back the rug in his chair.
"If you all persist in turning this into a pleasure cruise," he remarked,
"I suppose I'll have to alter my own point of view. Come on, Harris, you
and I promised to report to the Captain this morning. I don't suppose
he'll be any too pleased with us.


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