“He felt that Lawrence had understood, and had quite deliberately impressed his fingerprints upon it, though whether in conscious innocence, in mockery, or in defiance, Bobby could not make up his mind. For in the other’s manner there seemed neither mockery nor defiance, and conscious innocence was a theory Bobby was not yet prepared to admit, since, for one thing, an innocence that is conscious can exist only where suspicion has been entertained, and in this case how could suspicion have be...en roused except by a knowledge incompatible with innocence? Lawrence had taken his seat at his desk behind which burned the electric fire that was on this warm afternoon lifting the temperature in the room to what Bobby was inclined to think must be well over the hundred mark. But, though Bobby was perspiring freely, the lean, cadaverous Lawrence seemed quite unaffected. His worn features, so deeply lined, his dry and parchment-like skin that seemed so incongruous with his apparent youth, showed no sign of being affected by the heated atmosphere.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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