Explore "The White Glove" by Fred M. White on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
So down to the country forthwith went Clifford Marsh. It was still dark when he arrived, having stated that he would come down by the first available train, in his conversation over the telephone. But, dark as it was, and far from the station as the cottage was, Madeline was there to meet him. Her eyes were red, as if she had been weeping. Matthew Forfitt had been a hard man, but still Madeline could not quite forget the fact that he had been her father.
"It's a dreadful business, Clifford," she said, as she clung to his arm going up the hill. "It came as an awful shock when Dr. Barr knocked me up and told me the news. I suppose that some burglar, allured by the reports of my father's wealth was responsible for it. He always stayed up very late and he never wanted his study window closed."