Chapter Nine.
A Maze of Mystery.
I sat erect in my chair, open-mouthed, unable to move. My eyes were riveted upon the slim graceful form before me. I held my breath in wonder. She wore a smart tailor-made gown of pale fawn, with a large black hat which suited her admirably, while across the face—every feature of which had been so indelibly photographed upon my memory—was a thin gauzy veil which only served to heighten, rather than to conceal, her striking beauty.
“I’m so sorry to have disturbed you,” she exclaimed, turning to her ladyship. “But I hadn’t any idea that you had a visitor.”
“Oh,” laughed the other, “our conversation is not at all of a private character. Let me introduce you.” Then, turning to me, she said—
“This is my cousin, Feo Ashwicke—Doctor Colkirk.”
My wife turned to me and bowed, a sweet smile upon her lips.
“I hope, Doctor, you will forgive me for bounding into the room like this,” she said.