Explore "Mystery at Lynden Sands" by J.J. Connington on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Paul Fordingbridge, with a faintly reproachful glance at his sister, interrupted his study of the financial page of The Times and put the paper down on his knee. Deliberately he removed his reading-glasses; replaced them by his ordinary spectacles; and then turned to the restless figure at the window of the private sitting-room.
"Well, Jay, you seem to have something on your mind. Would it be too much to ask you to say it -- whatever it is -- and then let me read my paper comfortably? One can't give one's mind to a thing when there's a person at one's elbow obviously ready to break out into conversation at any moment."