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Page 13
"Yes, Lora is at home. If you will wait here a moment I will send
her in."
Muller paced up and down the large sunny room, casting a glance
over the handsome old pieces of furniture and the family portraits
on the wall. It was evidently the home of generations of well-to-do,
well-bred people, the narrow circle of whose life was made rich by
congenial duties and a comfortable feeling of their standing in the
community.
While he was studying one of the portraits more carefully, he became
aware that there was some one in the room. He turned and saw a tall
blond girl standing by the door. She had entered so softly that
even Muller's quick ear had not heard the opening of the door.
"Do you wish to speak to me?" she said, coming down into the room.
"I am Eleonora Roemer"
Her face, which could be called handsome in its even regularity of
feature and delicate skin, was very pale now, and around her eyes
were dark rings that spoke of sleepless nights. Grief and mental
shock were preying upon this girl's mind. "She is not the one to
make a confidant of those around her," thought Muller to himself.
Then he added aloud: "If it does not distress you too much to talk
about this sad affair, I will be very grateful if you will answer
a few questions."
"I will tell you whatever I can," said the girl in the same low
even tone in which she had first spoken. "Miss Graumann tells me
that you have come from Vienna to take up this case. It is only
natural that we should want to give you every assistance in our
power."
"What is your opinion about it?" was Muller's next remark, made
rather suddenly after a moment's pause.
The directness of the question seemed to shake the girl out of her
enforced calm. A slow flush mounted into her pale cheeks and then
died away, again leaving them whiter than before. "I do not know
--oh, I do not know what to believe."
"But you do not think Mr. Graumann capable of such a crime, do you?"
"Not of the robbery, of course not; that would be absurd! But has
it been clearly proven that there is a robbery? Might it not have
been--might they not have--"
"You mean, might they not have quarreled? Of course there is
that possibility. And that is why I wanted to speak to you. You
are the one person who could possibly throw light on this subject.
Was there any other reason beyond the dead man's past that would
render your guardian unwilling to have you marry him?"
Again the slow flush mounted to Eleonora Roemer's cheeks and her
head drooped.
"I fear it may be painful for you to answer this," said Muller
gently, "and yet I must insist on it in the interest of justice."
"He--my guardian--wished to marry me himself," the girl's words
came slowly and painfully.
Muller drew in his breath so sharply that it was almost like a
whistle. "He did not tell me that; it might make a difference."
"That ... that is ... what I fear," said the girl, her eyes
looking keenly into those of the man who sat opposite. "And then,
it was his revolver."
"Then you do believe him guilty?"
"It would be horrible, horrible--and yet I do not know what to
think."
There was silence in the room for a moment. Miss Roemer's head
drooped again and her hands twisted nervously in her lap. Muller's
brain was very busy with this new phase of the problem. Finally
he spoke.
"Let us dismiss this side of the question and talk of another phase
of it, a phase of which it is necessary for me to know something.
You would naturally be the person nearest the dead man, the one, the
only one, perhaps, to whom he had given his confidence. Do you know
of any enemies he might have had in the city?"
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