"I'm afraid I've kept you waiting, Mr. Shorthouse," he said in a
pleasant voice, but with no trace of a smile in the mouth or eyes. "But
the fact is, you know, I've a mania for chemistry, and just when you
were announced I was at the most critical moment of a problem and was
really compelled to bring it to a conclusion."
Shorthouse had risen to meet him, but the other motioned him to resume
his seat. It was borne in upon him irresistibly that Mr. Joel Garvey,
for reasons best known to himself, was deliberately lying, and he could
not help wondering at the necessity for such an elaborate
misrepresentation. He took off his overcoat and sat down.
"I've no doubt, too, that the door startled you," Garvey went on,
evidently reading something of his guest's feelings in his face. "You
probably had not suspected it. It leads into my little laboratory.
Chemistry is an absorbing study to me, and I spend most of my time
there." Mr. Garvey moved up to the armchair on the opposite side of the
fireplace and sat down.
Shorthouse made appropriate answers to these remarks, but his mind was
really engaged in taking stock of Mr.
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