Explore "A Crime on Canvas" by Fred M. White on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
BUT Hatton showed no signs of falling in with Watney's suggestion. Tired and worn out as he had been a little time before, he was alert and vigorous now. If necessary, he would have gone back to the studio to verify all these amazing facts for himself.
"What is the good of talking to me about bed?" he said. "Do you suppose I could sleep in my present frame of mind? But, then, I suppose a hardened journalist gets accustomed to anything. Now perhaps you will be good enough to repeat that all over again. For the more I try to grasp things, the more incomprehensible they become. I must confess that I am utterly bewildered. The whole thing sounds impossible, wilder and more improbable than one could read in a book. I am certain that when I left the studio Le Blanc lay there dead."