It was perhaps a quarter of an hour later when the buzzer on our
hall door sounded. Imagine my surprise on opening the door to
discover the slight figure of what appeared to be a most
fascinating young lady who was heavily veiled. She was in a state
almost bordering on hysteria, as even I, in spite of my usual
obtuseness, noticed.
"Is Professor Kennedy in?" she inquired anxiously.
"Yes, ma'am;" I replied, opening the door into our study.
She advanced toward him, repeating her inquiry.
"I am Professor Kennedy. Pray be seated," he said.
The presence of a lady in our apartment was such a novelty that
really I forgot to disappear, but busied myself straightening the
furniture and opening a window to allow the odour of stale
tobacco to escape.
"My name is Eveline Bisbee," she began. "I have heard, Professor
Kennedy, that you are an adept at getting at the bottom of
difficult mysteries."
"You flatter me;" he said in acknowledgment. "Who was so foolish
as to tell you that?"
"A friend who has heard of the Kerr Parker case," she replied.
"I beg your pardon," I interrupted, "I didn't mean to intrude. I
think I'll go out. I'll be back in an hour or two."
"Please, Mr. Jameson--it is Mr. Jameson, is it not?"
I bowed in surprise.
"If it is possible I wish you would stay and hear my story.
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