Mr. Graham, startled by the noise of his
entrance, wheeled around from his desk and stared at him in
astonishment.
"Why, upon my word, John," he began, "you look all done up. What's the
matter?"
"Matter enough, sir!" and Mr. Royce spread out the paper on the desk
before him. "You haven't seen the morning papers, of course; well,
look at that!" and he indicated with a trembling finger the article
which occupied the first column of the first page--the place of
honor.
I saw our senior's face change as he read the headlines, and he seemed
positively horror-stricken as he ran rapidly through the story which
followed.
"Why, this is the most remarkable thing I ever read!" he burst out at
last.
"Remarkable!" cried the other. "Why, it's a damnable outrage, sir! The
idea that a gentle, cultured girl like Frances Holladay would
deliberately murder her own father--strike him down in cold blood--is
too monstrous, too absolutely preposterous, too--too----" and he
stopped, fairly choked by his emotion.
The words brought me upright in my chair. Frances Holladay accused
of--well!--no wonder our junior was upset!
But Mr. Graham was reading through the article again more carefully,
and while he nodded sympathetically to show that he fully assented to
the other's words, a straight, deep line of perplexity, which I had
come to recognize, formed between his eyebrows.
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