Explore "Mr. Marx's Secret" by E. Phillips Oppenheim on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
On the morrow as we walked out together, my father and I, making our way as though by common consent up towards the bare brown hills, I remembered that there were many things which I wished to say to him.
"I want to ask you about Mr. Marx, father," I began. "Everything concerning him is so utterly mysterious, especially his going away so suddenly. Apart from the fear of his having used some sort of foul play towards Hart -- or Francis -- I can't help thinking that there is something else wrong with him. You trust him thoroughly, I suppose? " I added hesitatingly.