Walter De Maris

THE LAW Mr. Maverick Narkom, Superintendent of Scotland Yard, sat before the litter of papers upon his desk. His brow was puckered, his fat face red with anxiety, and there was about him the air of one who has reached the end of his tether. He faced the man opposite, and fairly ground his teeth upon his lower lip. "Dash it, Cleek!" he said for the thirty-third time, "I don't know what... more...

DOWN AND OUT "I wonder who will tell her," I heard somebody say, just outside the arbour. The somebody was a woman; and the somebody else who answered was a man. "Glad it won't be me!" he replied, ungrammatically. I didn't know who these somebodies were, and I didn't much care. For the first instant the one thing I did care about was, that they should remain outside my... more...