"I don't hesitate to tell you that I
value your life much higher than you do."
"That is quite unnecessary. It may amuse you to know that, as I am a
person of little curiosity, I am not the least concerned in the solution
of--of--what might be called the Armitage riddle."
"Oh; I'm a riddle, am I?"
"Not to me, I assure you! You are only the object of some one's enmity,
and there's something about murder that is--that isn't exactly nice! It's
positively unesthetic."
She had begun seriously, but laughed at the absurdity of her last words.
"You are amazingly impersonal. You would save a man's life without caring
in the least what manner of man he may be."
"You put it rather flatly, but that's about the truth of the matter. Do
you know, I am almost afraid--"
"Not of me, I hope--"
"Certainly not. But it has occurred to me that you may have the conceit
of your own mystery, that you may take rather too much pleasure in
mystifying people as to your identity."
"That is unkind,--that is unkind," and he spoke without resentment, but
softly, with a falling cadence.
He suddenly threw down the hat he had held in his hand, and extended his
arms toward her.
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