You
ought to have heard what she said to 'em from behind the door when
she finally opened it and let 'em in,--and she nearly had a fit
when she saw old Tintype was with 'em. She lit into him,--my gosh,
how she lit into him! Accused him of suspecting her of having an
erudite affair with Courtney,--erudite wasn't the word she used, but
it don't matter, it's as good as any for an old maid. We searched
everywhere, but no sign of him. You needn't be surprised to find
one of the detectives hanging around your place, Alix. They think
maybe he'll turn up there before long."
"He can't be very far away," said she suddenly aroused to anxiety.
She had ceased crying and was drying her eyes with her handkerchief.
The car was nearing the entrance to her grounds. "He wouldn't dare
come to my house after--after what I said to him tonight. He could
not expect me to help him in any--"
"Well, you see, it's barely possible he don't know they're after
him, Alix. I guess maybe I'd better stay here for a while. You
won't be so nervous with me in the house."
"I am not afraid, Charlie. Of course, I am terribly unstrung and
unhappy over poor little Rosabel,--but I am not afraid of HIM. He
will not come here. Tell me again just what he is accused of doing."
The car had drawn up under the porte-cochere. Webster repeated the
story he had had from Gilfillan.
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