He smiled. "You are a most intelligent young lady. Most intelligent! I shall see a great deal of you in the weeks to come."
It was not a distasteful prospect. I liked the Professor and was glad he liked me. After he left I went back and found not a single book out of place. I liked him even more.
Two weeks passed before I saw Professor Waits again. He came in out of the sunshine, carrying his black umbrella and wearing the same black string necktie. I was busy at the time, finding an acceptable book for Mrs. Winsolow's little Freddie who was in bed with the pip. When I got clear, Professor Waits was deep in his research and I did not disturb him.
He came pattering out just before closing time and I was struck by the somber—almost sad—expression he wore.
"Did you have trouble finding what you wanted, Professor?"
"Oh no. The records are most voluminous. It's just—well, the nature of my discoveries."
"Bad?"
"Very bad, Miss Hopstead. Do you know who Henry Reamer's murderer was?"
"No."