Kennedy passed over the impertinence of the slang. Evidently McCabe considered flirtations with maids his prerogative.
"I'd like to see her."
McCabe led us down the hall, and soon we found Celeste, a young and remarkably beautiful girl.
One could see traces of sorrow on her face, which was exceedingly, though not unpleasingly, pale. She was dressed in black, which heightened the pallor of her face and excited a feeling of mingled respect and interest. There was, however, a restless brilliancy of her eyes and a nervousness which was expressed by the constant motion of her slender fingers.
She shrank from McCabe, and her confidence was not restored even after Kennedy had ordered him to leave us alone with her so that we might question her.
"Oh, these horrible detectives!" she murmured. "It is terrible. They will drive me crazy. Pauvre, pauvre madame!"
Kennedy had sought this opportunity to question her about Vail Wilford alone. But, as he plied her with questions, she had little to say either about him or about her mistress. She was evidently well trained.
"Did you ever see Mr. Wilford or Mrs. Wilford with Mrs. Vina Lathrop?" asked Kennedy, suddenly.
Celeste shook her head with a naïve stare.
"Nevair."