Explore "Murder by Matchlight" by Edith Caroline Rivett on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
When Macdonald left Ross Lane’s house he turned southwards down Wimpole Street, cogitating deeply. Having had no dinner he turned into a pub behind Oxford Circus and ate some sandwiches with his glass of stout. Reflecting that wartime sandwiches were no food for a hungry man he continued on his way to Bloomsbury where he found the house he wanted to visit still standing—a reason for satisfaction in a neighbourhood which has many open spaces. He climbed a number of stairs and knocked on a fine solid door—for the house had been built in a period when joiners took pride in their work. The door was opened by a stout fellow whose massive head was becoming bald: this gentleman took off his horn-rimmed glasses and stared at his visitor.
“Dr. Crotton?” inquired Macdonald, and the other replied: