Manchurian Books

St. John?"
St. George briefly narrated the events of the morning and placed the
slip of paper in the lawyer's hands.
"Ah! We have here a communication in the nature of a confession,"
the lawyer observed, adjusting his gold pince-nez, head thrown back,
eyebrows lifted.
"Only the address, sir," said St. George, "and I was just saying to
Mrs. Hastings that some one ought to go to this address at once and
find out whatever is to be got there. Whoever goes I will very
gladly accompany."
Mr. Frothingham had a fashion of making ready to speak and
soliciting attention by the act, and then collapsing suddenly with
no explosion, like a bad Roman candle. He did this now, and whatever
he meant to say was lost to the race; but he looked very wise the
while. It was rather as if he discarded you as a fit listener, than
that he discarded his own comment.
"I don't know but I ought to go myself," rambled Mrs. Hastings,
"perhaps Mr. Hastings would think I ought. Suppose, Mr. Frothingham,
that we both go.


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