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Rohmer, Sax, 1883-1959

"Bat Wing"


After a time, then, as no sound came from the adjoining room, I turned
in, and despite all things was soon fast asleep.
Almost immediately, it seemed, I was awakened. In point of fact, nearly
four hours had elapsed. A hand grasped my shoulder, and I sprang up in
bed with a stifled cry, but:
"It's all right, Knox," came Harley's voice. "Don't make a noise."
"Harley!" I said. "Harley! what has happened?"
"Nothing, nothing. I am sorry to have to disturb your beauty sleep, but
in the absence of Innes I am compelled to use you as a dictaphone,
Knox. I like to record impressions while they are fresh, hence my
having awakened you."
"But what has happened?" I asked again, for my brain was not yet fully
alert.
"No, don't light up!" said Harley, grasping my wrist as I reached out
toward the table-lamp.
His figure showed as a black silhouette against the dim square of the
window.
"Why not?"
"Well, it's nearly two o'clock. The light might be observed."
"Two o'clock?" I exclaimed.
"Yes. I think we might smoke, though. Have you any cigarettes? I have
left my pipe behind."
I managed to find my case, and in the dim light of the match which I
presently struck I saw that Paul Harley's face was very fixed and grim.


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