Part 16 (2/2)
”My name is Joseph Miller certainly.”
”Ah! Then I am safe;” and she sat down in an armchair, and smiled confidingly at me.
”Madam,” said I sternly, ”will you have the goodness to explain to what I owe the pleasure of this visit?”
”They told me to come to you.”
”Who?”
”Why, the people at the police station.”
”The police station?”
”Yes, when they let me go--because it was a first offense, you know.
They said you always took up cases like mine, and that if I stuck to you I should be well looked after.”
It was quite true that I have taken an interest in rescuing young persons from becoming habitual criminals; but I was hardly prepared for this.
”What have you been doing?”
”Oh, nothing this time--only a bracelet.”
”This time?”
”They didn't know me up here,” she explained smilingly. ”I've always practiced in the country. Wasn't it lucky? But really, Mr. Miller, I'm tired of it; I am indeed. The life is too exciting: the doctors say so; so I've come to you.”
The case was a strange one, but I had no time to investigate it now. It wanted only half an hour to the time my train left Liverpool Street.
”What is your name?” I asked.
”Sarah Jones.”
”Well, I will have your case looked into. Come and see me again; or, if you are in distress, you may write to me--at Colonel Gunton's, Beech Hill, Norfolk. I shall be staying there----”
”Going now?”
”I start in a few minutes.”
”Oh, I'll come with you.”
”Madam,” I answered, with emphasis, ”I will see you--out of the office first.”
”But what am I to do? Oh, it's nonsense! I shall come. I shall say I belong to you.”
I rang the bell. ”Show this lady out, Thomas, at once.”
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