Explore "The Judgment of Larose" by Arthur Gask on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"And I am certain, Mr. Larose," frowned Inspector Roberts of the Eastbourne police, motioning his visitor to a chair, "that we have got that murderer now actually under our hands, as surely as if he were shut up here in the cells. " His lips curled disdainfully. "Among those scented and bejewelled women or among those men of birth and breeding, with their silk underwear and their dude clothes" -- he shrugged his shoulders -- "lurks a beast as stark and savage as in any of the lowest crime haunts of the world. " His voice trailed away to a deep sigh. "But the devil of it is we don't know which among them the wretch is."
Gilbert Larose settled himself comfortably in his chair. He was a boyish-looking man in the late twenties, and of so ordinary an appearance that no one would have imagined for one moment that he was a tracker-down of crime of international reputation. He had a pleasant, happy face, with a humorous mouth and smiling eyes. His expression, however, was an alert one.