"
"You are very kind, Munro," I answered; "but I cannot give up. If I had
all the wish in the world to leave here to-night, a will stronger than
my own would bring me back here to-morrow. The place haunts me. Believe
me, I suffer less from its influence, seated in this room, than when I
am in the office or walking along the Strand."
"Upon the same principle, I suppose, that a murderer always carries the
memory of his victim's face about with him; though he may have felt
callously indifferent whilst the body was an actual presence."
"Precisely," I agreed.
"But then, my dear fellow, you are not a murderer in any sense of the
word. You did not create the ghosts supposed to be resident here."
"No; but I feel bound to find out who did," I answered.
"That is, if you can, I suppose?" he suggested.
"I feel certain I shall," was the answer. "I have an idea in my mind,
but it wants shape. There is a mystery, I am convinced, to solve which,
only the merest hint is needed."
"There are a good many things in this world in the same position, I
should say," answered Munro. "However, Patterson, we won't argue about
the matter; only there is one thing upon which I am determined--after
this evening, I will come and stay here every night.
Pages:
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173