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passed Harold the eyes of both of them rested on him for a minute. It
was a curious, appraising glance – almost inhuman.
Harold's impression of evil grew stronger. He noticed the hand
of one of the two sisters, a long claw-like hand...
Although the sun had come out, he shivered again. He thought:
"Horrible creatures. Like birds of prey..."
He was distracted from these thoughts by the appearance of
Mrs. Rice. He jumped up and drew forward a chair. He asked:
"Did you see those two women who just went into the hotel?"
"With cloaks on? Yes, I passed them."
"It may be my fancy, but. I distinctly felt there was something
evil about them."
"How curious. These are Polish ladies – of very good family. I
must look at them more closely and see if I agree with you..."
She looked at her watch.
"Tea-time. Can you ring the bell, Mr. Waring?"
"Certainly, Mrs. Rice."
He did so and then as he returned to his seat he asked: "Where
is your daughter this afternoon?"
"Elsie? We went for a walk together. She had a letter from her
husband. She won't come down to tea."
"Her husband?" Harold was surprised, "I thought she was a
widow."
Mrs. Rice shot him a sharp glance. She said dryly:
"Oh no, Elsie isn't a widow. Unfortunately."
"You don't like her husband?"
"Alcohol is responsible for a lot of unhappiness, Mr.. Waring."
"Does he drink?"
"Yes. And he's insanely jealous and has an extraordinarily
violent temper." She sighed. "It is a difficult world, Mr.. Waring. I'm
devoted to Elsie, she's my only child - and to see her unhappy isn't an
easy thing for me."
Harold felt a wave of indignation and pity sweep over him.
Elsie Clayton could not be more than twenty-five. He recalled her
friendly blue eyes, her soft gentle smile. He realized suddenly that his
interest in her was a little more than friendship.
And she was tied to a brute...