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Punshon, E. R. (Ernest Robertson), 1872-1956

"The Bittermeads Mystery"


But Deede Dawson seemed either to resent his tone or else to be
angry with himself for giving way to such weakness. In a voice more
like his usual one, he said harshly and sneeringly:
"Oh, yes, I had a mother once, just like everybody else. Why not?
Most people have their mothers, though it's not an arrangement I
should care to defend. Now then, Ella was with you tonight; you
and she were alone together a long time."
"Well," growled Dunn, "what of it?"
"Fine girl, isn't she?" asked Deede Dawson, and laughed.
Dunn did not speak. It filled him with such loathing to hear this
man so much as utter Ella's name, it was all he could do to keep
his hands motionless by his side and not make use of them about the
other's throat.
"She's been useful, very useful," Deede Dawson went on meditatively.
"Her mother had some money when I married her. I don't mind telling
you it's all spent now, but Ella's a little fortune in herself."
"I didn't know we came to talk about her," said Dunn slowly. "I
thought you had something else to say to me."
"So I have," Deede Dawson answered. "That's why I brought you here.
We are safe from eavesdroppers here, in a house you can never tell
who is behind a curtain or a door. But then, Ella is a part of my
plans, a very important part. Do you remember I told you I might
want you to take a second packing-case away from here in the car
one night?"
"Yes, I remember," said Dunn slowly.


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