Explore "A Crime on Canvas" by Fred M. White on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
LAWRENCE laughed almost despairingly. The whole thing was so bewildering, so inexplicable that he felt inclined to abandon every attempt to solve the mystery. There was something almost farcical in Watney's statement. It seemed to Lawrence that the strange developments, treated with a light touch, might have a success on the stage.
"It is useless to try to get to the bottom of it," he said. "I am only sorry now that I ever had anything to do with the matter. I have thought and thought over it till my brain is fairly muddled. Take the case of Doveluck. Why should a man in his position take the trouble to disguise himself as a beggar and come and meet me at the door of Wandsworth Prison? You will admit that that is the last thing you might expect a millionaire to do. Of course I know that in some way Doveluck was in league with Le Blanc. But what on earth do they want me for? It is almost a pity now that I went off with Ethel Blantyre instead of waiting for Doveluck's so-called patron. If I had gone abroad as I had first intended, I should have got out of all this mess, whereas it seems that I am likely to find myself back in Wandsworth Prison before long."