The Disappearing Eye by Fergus Hume — Read

I could have seen Gertrude before leaving for London, but I did not think it wise to do so. She would certainly ask questions, and if, by chance, I let slip that my visit was to her father, trouble would ensue. When had he returned from America? Why had he returned from America? For what reason did he wish to see me? Where was the letter or telegram, which I had received? These questions Gertrude would assuredly ask, and if I answered them truthfully, she would probably insist upon coming with me. That would be impossible, as her presence would only complicate matters. And Heaven knows they were sufficiently complicated as it was.

For this reason I simply sent a note saying that I had been called to London on business, and drove over to Tarhaven in Mrs. Gilfin's trap to catch the midday train. I just managed to escape Cannington, whom I saw in the street, as I drove up to the station, and was glad that he had not noticed me. I did not wish to enter into further explanations, and invent theories, and conjecture possibilities. So many lies were being told and so many secrets were being kept, that it was difficult to understand the actual position of affairs. The corner shop at Mootley seemed to have been a kind of rendezvous for all manner of people, and on that fatal evening Mrs. Caldershaw appeared to have held quite a reception. Gertrude, her father, Striver, and Miss Destiny had all been making for that goal, and the consequence of their presence -- in a broad sense I speak -- had been the death of the old woman.