"I'll get some water ready for you in the kitchen, and a--" began
Mrs. Strong, but Alix, suddenly alive, intercepted her with a cry.
"No! I will go, Aunt Nancy,--I insist!" And before Mrs. Strong could
offer a word of protest, she flashed past her and was running up
the stairs.
A look of chagrin leaped into Courtney's eyes. He had counted on
another minute or two alone with her. Under his breath he muttered
an oath.
Alix's bedroom door opened and closed. Mrs. Strong was still looking
in astonishment up the staircase.
"I--she's pretty badly upset, Mr. Thane," she said at last. "That
face in the window,--and everything."
"Good Lord,--you don't mean to say you saw him?"
"Yes,--looking in that window over there. Only for a second. You
must have scared him away."
"Then, by George, you can identify him!"
"He had a mask on. Didn't you see his face?"
"No. It was dark. Masked, you say. That's bad. It will be hard to
swear--Still, I saw his figure. Short, heavy fellow. Wore a cap."
She continued to look anxiously up the stairs.
"Wait here," she said shortly. "I must go up to her. Go to the kitchen
if you like, and wash the blood off. I'll be back in a jiffy."
He waited till she was out of sight, and then limped into the
living-room,--but with a swiftness incredible in one with a twisted
knee. Going direct to the fireplace, he took something out of his
coat pocket and, after a glance at door and window, quickly consigned
it to the flames.
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