Explore "The Golden Rose" by Fred M. White on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Lethbridge returned to his hotel. He did not dare go farther, lest there might be watchers in the grounds. Moreover, a dog was prowling about in his immediate vicinity. On the whole, he had had an instructive and valuable evening, and had been far from wasting his time. It would be a thousand pities to spoil everything by haste. He had the rest of the evening to think matters over and settle what to do when he called upon Murshee.
It was beginning to grow dark when he set out upon his errand next evening. He came to the house at length, and asked for the little man by name. A footman escorted him along a passage which led to a suite of rooms evidently placed at Murshee's disposal. As Lethbridge entered the sitting-room the man was just slipping on his shoes. A revolver lay on a table close at hand, and Lethbridge wondered what it was there for. In his quick way Murshee interpreted the glance and picked up the weapon with his sound hand.