“We’re here to take your foster daughter down to the station to ask her a few questions sir. ” Chapter XXV THE STEEL EDGE OF THE TRUTH The manservant, with his plain black clothes and black tie, had entered the room with a deferential little gesture. There are some papers I have to look through to-night—important papers. He might have supposed the fellow would be eager to be rid of the tale, for that he might have longer to enjoy the amenities of the Triumphal Chariot where the meeting had been appointed. It was a gray day in the spring of 1910. Earles said, with a resigned sigh, “but I shall rely upon you to stick to me so long as I do the right thing by you. Stanley was inclined to think the censorship should be extended to the supply of what he styled latter-day fiction; good wholesome stories were being ousted, he said, by “vicious, corrupting stuff” that “left a bad taste in the mouth. What was the objection? She found it impossible to look her own diffidence in the face. ‘Desist, you little devil,’ he growled in her ear.
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