CHAPTER IV
Cecily Says Good-bye
THE cold light of the morning brought with it a profound scepticism. Godfrey’s theory no longer seemed so convincing; in fact, it did not seem convincing at all. Many objections occurred to me; I saw that the whole elaborate structure was built upon quicksand—there was no proof that any of the clippings referred to Tremaine or Thompson; there was no proof that Thompson had gathered them with elaborate care and of set purpose; there was no proof…
Yes—there was one point susceptible of proof; by it the whole structure would stand or fall…
“Mr. Royce,” I said to our junior, in the course of the morning, “I wonder if I could be spared this afternoon? I’ve some business of my own which I’d very much like to attend to.”
“Why, certainly,” he answered instantly: so when I left the office at noon, I took the Elevated to the Grand Central Station and bought a ticket to Ossining. Once there, I went direct to the grey old prison and stated my errand to Mr. Jones, the sub-warden, whom I found in charge.
“I’ve come up from New York,” I began, after giving him my card, “to see if you can identify
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