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Oppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips), 1866-1946

"The Profiteers"

Can I rely upon your waiting
here for me?"
"I give you my word," Wingate promised.
"I shall also require some explanation," the inspector continued, turning
to Phipps--
"Explanation be damned!" the latter interrupted furiously. "If you want
to know the truth about the whole business--"
He broke off suddenly. His eyes seemed fascinated by the slow entry of
Wingate's hand to his pocket. He kicked a footstool sullenly on one side.
The inspector, after waiting for a moment, turned away.
"In due season," he concluded, "I shall require to hear the truth from
both of you gentlemen. You seem to have given Scotland Yard a great deal
of unnecessary trouble."
The telephone bell began to ring as the door closed. Wingate took up the
receiver, listened for a moment and passed the instrument over to
Phipps. The latter presently replaced the receiver upon its hook with a
little groan.
"You've broken us," he announced grimly.
"No news has ever given me greater pleasure." Wingate replied.
Stanley Rees rose to his feet.
"We are not prisoners any more, I suppose?" he asked sullenly. "I am
going home."
"There is nothing to detain you," Wingate replied politely, "unless you
choose to take breakfast first."
"We want no more of your hospitality," Phipps muttered. "You will hear of
us again!"
Wingate stood between them and the door.


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