Explore "The Yellow House Master of Men" by E. Phillips Oppenheim on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The two women were standing face to face. Bruce Deville and I had fallen back. There was a moment or two's breathless silence. Then Adelaide Fortress, with perfect composure, moved over to the girl's side, and glanced over her shoulder.
"That," she said, quietly, "is the photograph of a man who has been dead twenty years. His name was not Maltabar."