Explore "Elusive Isabel" by Jacques Futrelle on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Still wearing the graceful, filmy morning gown, with an added touch, of scarlet in her hair -- a single red rose -- Miss Thorne came into the drawing-room where Mr. Grimm sat waiting. There was curiosity in her manner, thinly veiled, but the haunting smile still lingered about her lips. Mr. Grimm bowed low, and placed a chair for her, after which he stood for a time staring down at one slim, white hand at rest on the arm of the seat. At last, he, too, sat down.
"I believe," he said slowly, without preliminaries, "this is your handkerchief?"