And yet as we saw it that
autumn morning, it was not its beauty which would be the first
thing to impress the observer. The cheek was lovely, but it
was paled with emotion; the eyes were bright, but it was the
brightness of fever; the sensitive mouth was tight and drawn in
an effort after self-command. Terror -- not beauty -- was what
sprang first to the eye as our fair visitor stood framed for an
instant in the open door.
"Has my husband been here, Mr. Holmes?"
"Yes, madam, he has been here."
"Mr. Holmes, I implore you not to tell him that I came here."
Holmes bowed coldly, and motioned the lady to a chair.
"Your ladyship places me in a very delicate position.
I beg that you will sit down and tell me what you desire;
but I fear that I cannot make any unconditional promise."
She swept across the room and seated herself with her back
to the window. It was a queenly presence -- tall, graceful,
and intensely womanly.
"Mr. Holmes," she said, and her white-gloved hands clasped and
unclasped as she spoke -- "I will speak frankly to you in the
hope that it may induce you to speak frankly in return.
Pages:
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499
500
501
502
503
504
505
506
507
508
509
510
511
512
513
514
515
516