"And you haven't seen him since?"
"Once. I--didn't hear from him, and I called him up. We--we met in the
park. He said everything was all right, but he couldn't tell me just
then. The next day he resigned from the paper and went away. Mrs.
Pitman, it's driving me crazy! For they have found a body, and they
think it is hers. If it is, and he was with her--"
"Don't be a foolish girl," I protested. "If he was with Jennie Brice,
she is still living, and if he was _not_ with Jennie Brice--"
"If it was _not_ Jennie Brice, then I have a right to know who it
was," she declared. "He was not like himself when I met him. He said
such queer things: he talked about an onyx clock, and said he had been
made a fool of, and that no matter what came out, I was always to
remember that he had done what he did for the best, and that--that he
cared for me more than for anything in this world or the next."
"That wasn't so foolish!" I couldn't help it; I leaned over and
drew her nightgown up over her bare white shoulder. "You won't help
anything or anybody by taking cold, my dear," I said.
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