My curiosity had been aroused by the healthfulness of that small, well-formed hand, and I intended to investigate for myself. That house was, I felt certain, a house of mystery.
I had turned towards the door, but in an instant he had reached it and stood facing me with his back to it resolutely, saying—
“You will go to her on one condition—the condition I have already explained.”
“That I take her life seriously, and give a certificate of death from natural causes,” I said. “No, Mr Wynd, I am no murderer.”
“Not if we add to the sum an extra five thousand?”
“I will not harm her for an extra fifty thousand. Let me pass!” I cried with fierce resolution.
“When you have promised to accede to my request.”
“I will never promise that.”
“Then you will not enter her room again.”
Almost as the words left his lips there was a low tap at the door, and it opened, disclosing Davies, who announced—