The Old Man in the Corner

The Old Man in the Corner, by
Baroness Orczy

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Title: The Old Man in the Corner
Author: Baroness Orczy
Release Date: January 1, 2004 [EBook #10556]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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[Illustration: "The old man in the corner."]

THE OLD MAN IN THE CORNER

BY
BARONESS ORCZY

TO MY DEAR UNCLE AND AUNT
COUNT AND COUNTESS WASS OF CZEGE
IN REMEMBRANCE OF MANY HAPPY DAYS SPENT IN
TRANSYLVANIA
October, 1908

CONTENTS
Chapter
I.
THE FENCHURCH STREET MYSTERY II. A MILLIONAIRE IN
THE DOCK III. HIS DEDUCTION IV. THE ROBBERY IN
PHILLIMORE TERRACE V. A NIGHT'S ADVENTURE VI. ALL
HE KNEW VII. THE YORK MYSTERY VIII. THE CAPITAL
CHARGE IX. A BROKEN-HEARTED WOMAN X. THE
MYSTERIOUS DEATH ON THE UNDERGROUND RAILWAY XI.
MR. ERRINGTON XII. THE LIVERPOOL MYSTERY XIII. A
CUNNING RASCAL XIV. THE EDINBURGH MYSTERY XV. A
TERRIBLE PLIGHT XVI. NON PROVEN XVII. UNDENIABLE
FACTS XVIII. THE THEFT AT THE ENGLISH PROVIDENT
BANK XIX. CONFLICTING EVIDENCE XX. AN ALIBI XXI. THE
DUBLIN MYSTERY XXII. FORGERY XXIII. A MEMORABLE
DAY XXIV. AN UNPARALLELED OUTRAGE XXV. THE
PRISONER XXVI. A SENSATION XXVII. TWO BLACKGUARDS
XXVIII. THE REGENT'S PARK MURDER XXIX. THE MOTIVE
XXX. FRIENDS XXXI. THE DE GENNEVILLE PEERAGE XXXII.

A HIGH-BRED GENTLEMAN XXXIII. THE LIVING AND THE
DEAD XXXIV. THE MYSTERIOUS DEATH IN PERCY STREET
XXXV. SUICIDE OR MURDER? XXXVI. THE END

THE OLD MAN IN THE CORNER
CHAPTER I
THE FENCHURCH STREET MYSTERY
The man in the corner pushed aside his glass, and leant across the table.
"Mysteries!" he commented. "There is no such thing as a mystery in
connection with any crime, provided intelligence is brought to bear
upon its investigation."
Very much astonished Polly Burton looked over the top of her
newspaper, and fixed a pair of very severe, coldly inquiring brown eyes
upon him.
She had disapproved of the man from the instant when he shuffled
across the shop and sat down opposite to her, at the same
marble-topped table which already held her large coffee (3d.), her roll
and butter (2d.), and plate of tongue (6d.).
Now this particular corner, this very same table, that special view of the
magnificent marble hall--known as the Norfolk Street branch of the
Aërated Bread Company's depôts--were Polly's own corner, table, and
view. Here she had partaken of eleven pennyworth of luncheon and one
pennyworth of daily information ever since that glorious
never-to-be-forgotten day when she was enrolled on the staff of the
Evening Observer (we'll call it that, if you please), and became a
member of that illustrious and world-famed organization known as the
British Press.
She was a personality, was Miss Burton of the Evening Observer. Her
cards were printed thus:

[Illustration: Miss MARY J. BURTON. Evening Observer.]
She had interviewed Miss Ellen Terry and the Bishop of Madagascar,
Mr. Seymour Hicks and the Chief Commissioner of Police. She had
been present at the last Marlborough House garden party--in the
cloak-room, that is to say, where she caught sight of Lady
Thingummy's hat, Miss What-you-may-call's sunshade, and of various
other things modistical or fashionable, all of which were duly described
under the heading "Royalty and Dress" in the early afternoon edition of
the Evening Observer.
(The article itself is signed M.J.B., and is to be found in the files of that
leading halfpennyworth.)
For these reasons--and for various others, too--Polly felt irate with the
man in the corner, and told him so with her eyes, as plainly as any pair
of brown eyes can speak.
She had been reading an article in the Daily Telegraph. The article was
palpitatingly interesting. Had Polly been commenting audibly upon it?
Certain it is that the man over there had spoken in direct answer to her
thoughts.
She looked at him and frowned; the next moment she smiled. Miss
Burton (of the Evening Observer) had a keen sense of humour, which
two years' association with the British Press had not succeeded in
destroying, and the appearance of the man was sufficient to tickle the
most ultra-morose fancy. Polly thought to herself that she had never
seen any one so pale, so thin, with such funny light-coloured hair,
brushed very smoothly across the top of a very obviously bald crown.
He looked so timid and nervous as he fidgeted incessantly with a piece
of string; his long, lean,