“But I tell you, you have been marked down, Herr Mitter, ” said Dr. Gottlieb sternly, “and that word has reached us from several quarters that you are now under the suspicion of the authorities. I have made this special journey to warn you.”
It was toward 9 o’clock upon one stormy summer night, and two men were conversing together in the low, oak-panelled and beautifully furnished room of an old house perched high upon a lonely stretch of cliff upon the coast of Suffolk, between the towns of Aldeburgh and Southwold. Glasses, spirits and a syphon had just been placed before them and the soft-footed butler had glided noiselessly from the room. Had the curtains of the long windows not been closely drawn, under a fitful moon could have been seen the heaving waters of the dark North Sea. The sound of the waves came up faintly into the room.
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