Explore "The Black" by Edgar Wallace on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
He was dreaming, he told himself mechanically. It couldn't be true; it was too absurd to think about. She had been shocking him as she had shocked Lydia Hamon. Of course it wasn't true. How could it be? She was only a child.
He found himself with drawn reins before the Cornford cottage. He could go in there and learn the truth--could drag it from the drunkard. Then he saw the doctor coming out and the old man nodded to him cheerily.