Claude crossed the room, and looked cautiously into the hall.
No one was there.
Coming back, he resumed his seat in the chair and looked at the white-faced man opposite.
“Whatever became of Aunt Hester?” he asked.
The expression that came into Perry Lamont’s face was most startling.
Every vestige of color left it, and it became as white as a marble statue.
“Who ever told you that I had a sister named Hester?” he asked.
“Never mind that. I only asked the question.”
“Is this some of your friend’s work?”
“That is a part of his secret. He says he has certain papers that will startle the world, that he has in his possession a certain confession or a family history written out by an old woman who called herself——”