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Chapter 4 IN WHICH THE MYSTERY INCREASES-2
I read tragedy in the dark luminous eyes of Muriel Leithcourt. I knew that her young heart was over-burdened by some secret sorrow or guilty knowledge that she would reveal to me if she dared. Her own words told me that she was perplexed; that she longed to confide and seek advice of someone, yet by reason of some hidden and untoward circumstance her lips were sealed. I tried to question her further regarding Woodroffe, of what profession he followed and of his past. But she evidently suspected me, for I had unfortunately mentioned the Lola. She wanted to speak to me in confidence, and yet she would reveal to me nothing—absolutely nothing. Martin Woodroffe did not rejoin the house-party at Rannoch. Although I remained the guest of my uncle much longer than I intended, indeed
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