Portrait of a Man with Red Hair: A Romantic Macabre

You're my friend: I was the man the Duke spoke to: I helped the Duchess to cast off his yoke too: So here's the tale from beginning to end, My friend!

Quarter of an hour later he left them, making his excuses, promising to return at half-past ten. He could not have stayed another moment, sitting there quietly in his wicker arm...

Harkness, slipping from the path on to the lawn, felt a relief, as though with the touch of his foot on the cool turf there had come a freedom from imprisonment.

The three stood just in front of the heavy locked door facing the dim hall. On the bottom stair was Crispin Senior, and on the floor below him, one on either side, the two Japan...