Hand and Ring - Anna Katharine Green (love story books to read TXT) 📗
- Author: Anna Katharine Green
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"No," she murmured, wearily; "unless it was because the ring he believed me to have retained was found on the scene of murder."
"Bah!" cried Mr. Gryce, "he had a much better reason than that."
And with the air of one who wishes to clear up all misunderstandings, he told her the words which her lover had overheard Mrs. Clemmens say when he came up to her dining-room door.
The effect on Imogene was very great. Hoping to hide it, she turned away her face, showing in this struggle with herself something of the strength of her old days. Mr. Gryce watched her with interest.
"It is very strange," was her first remark. "I had such reasons for thinking him guilty; he such good cause for thinking me so. What wonder we doubted each other. And yet I can never forgive myself for doubting him; I can sooner forgive him for doubting me. If you see him——"
"If I see him?" interrupted the detective, with a smile.
"Yes," said she. "If you see him tell him that Imogene Dare thanks him for his noble conduct toward one he believed to be stained by so despicable a crime, and assure him that I think he was much more justified in his suspicions than I was in mine, for there were weaknesses in my character which he had ample opportunities for observing, while all that I knew of him was to his credit."
"Miss Dare," suggested the detective, "couldn't you tell him this much better yourself?"
"I shall not have the opportunity," she said.
"And why?" he inquired.
"Mr. Mansell and I have met for the last time. A woman who has stained herself by such declarations as I made use of in court the last time I was called to the stand has created a barrier between herself and all earthly friendship. Even he for whom I perjured myself so basely cannot overleap the gulf I dug between us two that day."
"But that is hard," said Mr. Gryce.
"My life is hard," she answered.
The wise old man, who had seen so much of life and who knew the human heart so well, smiled, but did not reply. He turned instead to another subject.
"Well," he declared, "the great case is over! Sibley, satisfied with having made its mark in the world, will now rest in peace. I quit the place with some reluctance myself. 'Tis a mighty pretty spot to do business in."
"You are going?" she asked.
"Immediately," was the reply. "We detectives don't have much time to rest." Then, as he saw how deep a shadow lay upon her brow, added, confidentially: "Miss Dare, we all have occasions for great regret. Look at me now. Honest as I hold myself to be, I cannot blind myself to the fact that I am the possible instigator of this crime. If I had not shown Mr. Orcutt how a man like himself might perpetrate a murder without rousing suspicion, he might never have summoned up courage to attempt it. For a detective with a conscience, that is a hard thought to bear."
"But you were ignorant of what you were doing," she protested. "You had no idea there was any one present who was meditating crime."
"True; but a detective shouldn't be ignorant. He ought to know men; he has opportunity enough to learn them. But I won't be caught again. Never in any company, not if it is composed of the highest dignitaries in the land, will I ever tell again how a crime of any kind can be perpetrated without risk. One always runs the chance of encountering an Orcutt."
Imogene turned pale. "Do not speak of him," she cried. "I want to forget that such a man ever lived."
Mr. Gryce smiled again.
"It is the best thing you can do," said he. "Begin a new life, my child; begin a new life."
And with this fatherly advice, he said good-bye, and she saw his wise, kind face no more.
The hour that followed was a dreary one for Imogene. Her joy at knowing Craik Mansell was released could not blind her to the realization of her own ruined life. Indeed she seemed to feel it now as never before; and as the slow minutes passed, and she saw in fancy the strong figure of Mansell surrounded by congratulating admirers and friends, the full loneliness of her position swept over her, and she knew not whether to be thankful or not to the fever for having spared her blighted and dishonored life.
Mrs. Richmond, seeing her so absorbed, made no attempt at consolation. She only listened, and when a step was heard, arose and went out, leaving the door open behind her.
And Imogene mused on, sinking deeper and deeper into melancholy, till the tears, which for so long a time had been dried at their source, welled up to her eyes and fell slowly down her cheeks. Their touch seemed to rouse her. Starting erect, she looked quickly around as if to see if anybody was observing her. But the room seems quite empty, and she is about to sink back again with a sigh when her eyes fall on the door-way and she becomes transfixed. A sturdy form is standing there! A manly, eager form in whose beaming eyes and tender smile shine a love and a purpose which open out before her quite a different future from that which her fancy had been so ruthlessly picturing.
THE END. PUBLICATIONS OF G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS."In one respect at least, 'The Leavenworth Case' is the peer of Gaboriau's best efforts—the wonderful skill with which the author draws the reader, now this way, now that, in the search for the perpetrator of the mysterious crime with which the story begins, and deludes him until he reaches almost the last page."—New Haven Palladium.
"Wilkie Collins, in his best period, never invented a more ingeniously constructed plot, nor held the reader in such suspense until the final denouement. The most blasé novel-reader will be unable to put aside 'The Leavenworth Case' until he has read the last sentence and mastered the mystery which has baffled him from the beginning."—N. Y. Express.
"She has proved herself as well able to write an interesting story of mysterious crime as any man living."—The Academy, (London.)
"She has worked up a cause celèbre with a fertility of device and ingenuity of treatment hardly second to Wilkie Collins or Edgar Allen Poe."—Christian Union.
"We have read no story for a long time which has had so much of the Wilkie Collins, and Edgar Allen Poe flavor of reality in the telling."—Congregationalist.
"We do not propose to give the plot of the work, however, but merely to say that it is one of the most ingenious of the kind we have ever read."—Buffalo Express.
"This is the sort of book to be eagerly read and thoroughly enjoyed."—St. Paul Pioneer.
"A new novel by a new writer, which enchains our attention from the very first sentence of the first page, is a pleasant surprise. * * * Told with a force and power that indicate great dramatic talent in the writer."—St. Louis Post.
"Its interest is undoubted and it is thoroughly well sustained."—N. Y. Evening Post.
"The story is developed with great skill and shows ingenuity of the highest order."—Troy Times.
"A story of mystery and crime and is here narrated with an artistic skill which inevitably holds the interest of the reader, even to the point of the highest tension, to the close of the last chapter. * * * A real marvel of fiction."—Davenport Gazette.
"The plot is marked with striking originality, and the story is narrated with a vigor and power rarely met in modern novels. It is deeply interesting from beginning to end, and holds the reader entranced from the moment the first page is read until the last sentence is reached. It is, in fact, a revelation in American romance-writing, and we heartily commend it to the public."—Baltimore Gazette.
"Catches the fancy and chains the interest of the reader to such a degree that he is unwilling to lay it down until every page is devoured."—Toledo Journal.
"The author has chosen a department of fiction where only the best writers succeed, but she has shown herself capable of sustaining her role with wonderful vigor."—Boston Evening Traveller.
"It is an ingenious plot, admirably worked up, and told so straightforward as to be wholly pleasing."—Chicago Inter-Ocean.
"One of the best police detective stories written in America."—Hartford Courant.
"Wilkie Collins would not be ashamed of the construction of this story. * * * It keeps the reader's close attention from first to last."—N. Y. Evening Post.
"A most ingenious and absorbingly interesting story. The readers are held spell-bound till the last page."—Cincinnati Commercial.
"Ingenious in construction, powerful in dramatic interest, and artistic in development."—Boston Gazette.
"A most intensely interesting work of fiction. The story is developed with skill, and the work written in a strong, powerful style."—Augusta (Me.) Farmer.
"The plot is new and sparkling, and the story is carried to its denouement with an ingenuity and brightness of manner that makes it impossible to lay the volume down until completed. * * * It is a marvel of fiction."—Columbus Sunday Capital.
"The plot is very ingenious. * * * The interest in the tale is remarkably well sustained until its conclusion, and the mystery which envelopes the principal character is concealed with a great deal of artistic skill. * * * Shows a spirit of patient research that speaks well for the industry of the writer, and an analytical faculty rarely seen in a woman."—Boston Courier.
"Well written and extremely exciting and captivating. * * * She is a perfect genius in the construction of a plot."—N. Y. Commercial Advertiser.
"Will keep the sleepiest reader wide-awake from title to finis."—Boston Transcript.
"An extremely interesting story, * * * the development of the plot is kept well in hand, and the denouement is as dramatic as any that could be desired."—Albany Argus.
"Written with a spirit and force that are impressive."—Congregationalist.
PUBLICATIONS OF G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS. BAYARD TAYLOR'S NOVELS."If Bayard Taylor has not placed himself, as we are half inclined to suspect, in the front rank of novelists, he has produced a very remarkable book—a really original story, admirably told, crowded with life-like characters full of delicate and subtle sympathies, with ideas the most opposite to his own, and lighted up throughout with that playful humor which suggests always wisdom rather than mere fun."—London Spectator.
"'John Godfrey's Fortunes,' without being melodramatic or morbid, is one of the most fascinating novels which we have ever read. Its portraiture of American social life, though not flattering, is eminently truthful; its delineation of character is delicate and natural; its English, though sometimes careless, is singularly grateful and pleasant."—Cleveland Leader.
"Mr. Bayard Taylor's book is delightful and refreshing reading, and great rest after the crowded artistic effects and the conventional interests of even the better kind of English novels."—London Spectator.
"As a picture of rural life, we think this novel of Mr. Taylor's excels any of his previous productions."—N. Y. Evening Post.
"A tale of absorbing interest."—Syracuse Standard.
"In Bayard Taylor's happiest vein."—Buffalo Express.
"By far the best novel of the season."—Cleveland Leader.
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