Explore "The Calendar" by Edgar Wallace on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
IT WAS a chilly September morning. Garry's car came leisurely along the Great North Road, crept round the edge of the racecourse and pulled up before the entrance to the stands. He had timed his arrival accurately; it was a quarter to twelve when he reported himself to the secretary of the Club.
Early as he had been, somebody had arrived before him. In spite of the hasty closing of a door, he caught a glimpse of a woman in the secretary's office.