Is it from headquarters? Or has the
district attorney still more questions to ask?"
"I have a much more trying errand than that," I hastened to say,
with some idea of preparing her for an experience that could not
fail to be one of exceptional trial. "For reasons which will be
explained to you by those in greater authority than myself, you are
wanted at the house where - " I could not help stammering
under the light of her melancholy eyes - " where I saw you once
before," I lamely concluded.
"The house in Waverley Avenue?" she objected wildly, with the first
signs of positive terror I had ever beheld in her.
I nodded, dropping my eyes. What call had I to penetrate the
conscience of this woman?
"Are they there? all there?" she presently asked again. "The
police and - and Mr. Jeffrey?"
"Madam," I respectfully protested, "my duty is limited to
conducting you to the place named. A carriage is waiting. May I
beg that you will prepare yourself to go at once to Waverley Avenue?"
For answer she subjected me to a long and earnest look which I found
it impossible to evade. Then she hastened from the room, but with
very unsteady steps. Evidently the courage which had upborne her so
long was beginning to fail. Her very countenance was changed. Had
she recognized, as I meant she should, that the secret of the Moore
house was no longer a secret confined to her own breast and to that
of her unhappy brother-in-law?
When she returned ready for her ride this change in her spirits was
less observable, and by the time we had reached the house in Waverley
Avenue she had so far regained her old courage as to move and speak
with the calmness of despair if not of mental serenity.
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