"I
have just shot in here one of those asphyxiating bombs which the
Paris police invented to war against the Apaches and the motor-car
bandits. Open all the windows back here and let the air clear.
Walter, breathe as little of it as you can--but--come here--do you
see?--over there, near the other door--a figure lying on the
floor? Make a dash in after me and carry it out. There is just one
thing more. If I am not back in a minute come in and try to get
me."
He had already preceded me into the stifling fumes. With a last
long breath of fresh air I plunged in after him, scarcely knowing
what would happen to me. I saw the figure on the floor, seized it,
and backed out of the room as fast as I could.
Dizzy and giddy from the fumes I had been forced to inhale, I
managed to drag the form to the nearest window. It was Lucille
White.
An instant later I felt myself unceremoniously pushed aside.
Spencer had forgotten all about the millions of dollars' worth of
curios, all about the suspicions that had been entertained against
her, and had taken the half-conscious burden from me.
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