The Broken Thread. William Le Queux
number is 26,” he said. Again they parted, he wondering what she meant by placing so sudden a confidence in him.
As he descended to the foyer for a final smoke, and that refreshment we have christened a “nightcap,” he glanced upstairs again hoping to gain a final glimpse of his beloved. Instead, he saw—or was it fancy?—a tall figure looking down on him with a sardonic smile. For a moment only the sense of mistrust pervaded him. Then with an impatient gesture he muttered: “What’s the matter with you, Raife Remington? You’re all nerves to-night. It’s time you had that whisky and soda.”
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