... There, there's your story, Lester, make what you
like of it. I've done my bit and told it anyway."
For a moment there was silence. Then Stark shook himself.
"Gad, what an uncanny story! Turn up the lights someone, and dispel this
gloom that seems to have settled on everyone! What do you make of it?"
Suddenly Wynne's great, bulky figure swung free from the shadows. There
were red glints in his eyes and a sneer curled his heavy lips. He sucked
his cigar and threw his head back.
"What I make of it is a whole lot of old women's damn silly nonsense!" he
announced in a loud voice. "And how a sensible, decent thinkin' man can
give credence to the thing for one second beats me completely! Nigel's
head was always full of imaginations (of a sort) but how you other chaps
can listen to the thing--Well, all I can say is you're the rottenest lot
of idiots I've ever come across!"
Merriton shut his lips tightly for a moment, and tried hard to remember
that this man was a guest in his house. It was so obvious that Wynne was
trying for a row, Doctor Bartholomew turned round and lifted a protesting
hand.
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