But Milverton
never looked up. He was languidly interested by the papers in his
hand, and page after page was turned as he followed the argu-
ment of the lawyer. At least, I thought, when he has finished the
document and the cigar he will go to his room, but before he had
reached the end of either, there came a remarkable development
which turned our thoughts into quite another channel.
Several times I had observed that Milverton looked at his
watch, and once he had risen and sat down again, with a gesture
of impatience. The idea, however, that he might have an ap-
pointment at so strange an hour never occurred to me until a faint
sound reached my ears from the veranda outside. Milverton
dropped his papers and sat rigid in his chair. The sound was
repeated, and then there came a gentle tap at the door. Milverton
rose and opened it.
"Well," said he, curtly, "you are nearly half an hour late."
So this was the explanation of the unlocked door and of the
nocturnal vigil of Milverton. There was the gentle rustle of a
woman's dress. I had closed the slit between the curtains as
Milverton's face had turned in our direction, but now I ventured
very carefully to open it once more.
Pages:
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305