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Jerome, Jerome K. (Jerome Klapka), 1859-1927

"The Fawn Gloves"


"Yes," he mused. "She made no attempt to disguise it. Curious
there having been that likeness between them." He looked at his
watch. "Do you care to come with me?" he said.
"Where are you going?" I asked him.
"We may just catch him," he answered. "Ellenby and Co."
* * *
The office was on the top floor of an old-fashioned house in a
cul-de-sac off the Minories. Mr. Ellenby was out, so the lanky
office-boy informed us, but would be sure to return before evening;
and we sat and waited by the meagre fire till, as the dusk was
falling, we heard his footsteps on the creaking stairs.
He halted a moment in the doorway, recognising us apparently without
surprise; and then, with a hope that we had not been kept waiting
long, he led the way into an inner room.
"I do not suppose you remember me," said my friend, as soon as the
door was closed. "I fancy that, until last night, you never saw me
without my wig and gown. It makes a difference. I was Mrs.
Hepworth's senior counsel."
It was unmistakable, the look of relief that came into the old, dim
eyes. Evidently the incident of the previous evening had suggested
to him an enemy.
"You were very good," he murmured. "Mrs. Hepworth was overwrought
at the time, but she was very grateful, I know, for all your
efforts.


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