Explore "The Mystery of Room 75" by Fred M. White on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
All that Wendover could do for the moment was to drop his eyes before those of the man opposite him, as if he himself had done something to be ashamed of, and could not meet the glance of the other. But, sooth to say, just at that moment, he was honestly, horribly afraid lest the sham professor should read in his eyes any suggestion that he had even a glimmering of the ghastly truth.
He wanted to be alone to think, to work this thing out and grasp the full meaning of Garcia's latest crime. In spite of the steady state of his nerves, and the fact that he had been forearmed against crimes of this kind, he was shaken and shocked, and perhaps for the first time a little doubtful of his ability to get the best of the terrible force that was arrayed against him. But he must not show this. He must not let Garcia imagine for a moment that that clever disguise of his had been penetrated. He turned his back upon the other and, walking across the floor of the room, stood for some moments gazing out to sea, with the air of a man who is battling with himself and fighting against the horror of it.