Explore "The Betrayal" by E. Phillips Oppenheim on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It was late, but I felt that I must see Ray. I went to his house, little expecting to find him there. I was shown, however, into the study, where he was hard at work with a pile of correspondence. He wore an ancient shooting jacket, and his feet were encased in slippers. As usual, his pipe was between his teeth, and the tobacco smoke hung about him in little clouds.
"Well," he said gruffly. "What do you want of me? I am busy. Speak to the point."