He started to speak, his eyes
lowering as he regarded the two before him.
But Dick forestalled him. He spoke in a voice coldly repellent.
"What are you doing in this house at this time of night?" he
demanded. His manner was one of stern disapproval. "I recognize
you, Inspector Burke. But you must understand that there are
limits even to what you can do. It seems to me, sir, that you
exceed your authority by such an intrusion as this."
Burke, however, was not a whit dismayed by the rebuke and the air
of rather contemptuous disdain with which it was uttered. He
waved his revolver toward Mary, merely as a gesture of
inquisitiveness, without any threat.
"What's she doing here?" he asked. There was wrath in his rough
voice, for he could not avoid the surmise that his shrewdly
concocted scheme to entrap this woman had somehow been set awry.
"What's she doing here, I say?" he repeated heavily. His keen
eyes were darting once more about the room, questing some clue to
this disturbing mystery, so hateful to his pride.
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