..."
"What a tale for the Press!" snapped Smith.
"The owner has managed to keep it quiet so far, but this time I think
it will leak into the Press--yes."
There was a short silence; then--
"And you have been down to The Gables again?"
"I was there on Saturday, but there's not a scrap of evidence. The man
undoubtedly died of fright in the same way as Maddison. The place
ought to be pulled down; it's unholy."
"Unholy is the word," I said. "I never heard anything like it. This M.
Lejay had no enemies?--there could be no possible motive?"
"None whatever. He was a business man from Marseilles, and his affairs
necessitated his remaining in or near to London for some considerable
time; therefore, he decided to make his headquarters here,
temporarily, and leased The Gables with that intention."
Nayland Smith was pacing the floor with increasing rapidity; he was
tugging at the lobe of his left ear and his pipe had long since gone
out.
CHAPTER XXV
THE BELLS
I started to my feet as a tall, bearded man swung open the door and
hurled himself impetuously into the room. He wore a silk hat, which
fitted him very ill, and a black frock-coat which did not fit him at
all.
"It's all right, Petrie!" cried the apparition; "I've leased The
Gables!"
It was Nayland Smith! I stared at him in amazement.
"The first time I have employed a disguise," continued my friend
rapidly, "since the memorable episode of the false pigtail.
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