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Fifty Candles

The detective’s eyes followed mine and rested on Mary Will. “Huh! You’re interested in the young lady?”

“I’ve asked her to marry me,” I told him.

“Yeah. You admit, then, that there had been bad blood between you and Henry Drew over business matters? You claim he cheated you?”

“I do.”

“We left you wandering in the fog, trying to get back to this house, you say. You got back. How?”

“I met this gentleman—Doctor Parker. He had been invited here to dinner and was walking up from his hotel. He claimed that he, too, was lost.”

“Doctor Parker?” Barnes turned and surveyed him.

“Yes,” said the doctor, smiling his devilishly mean smile. “I met this young man wandering in the fog. I must say he had a wild look about him—but that, of course, is unimportant. Truth com-

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