“Oh, I don’t know. Why didn’t somebody want to put her out of the way to get a bequest? Not necessarily the Count gentleman, but maybe one of the servants. Maybe that Estelle? Didn’t she receive a legacy in Aunt Lucy’s will?”
“Yes, but nobody has thought of suspecting her.”
“Don’t see why not. I thought of her first clip. I don’t think that Stone paragon amounts to much. Hey, what are you blushing about? Sits the wind in that quarter?”
“Don’t tease me, Carr. I do like him better than any man I ever saw, but——”
“And so you ran away and left him! Out with it, Polly. Tell your old Uncle Dudley the story of your life!”
“There’s nothing to tell, Carr, about Mr. Stone. But I came to you, because some people suspect me,—ME—of—of killing Aunt Lucy——”
“Pauline! They don’t! Who suspects you?”
“All the police people, and Gray and Anita Frayne,——”
“They do! You poor little girl! I’m glad you came to me. I’ll take care of you. But, Polly, whom do you suspect? Honest, now, who is in your mind?”
“I don’t know, Carr. I can’t seem to think. But when they fastened it on me, I was so frightened, I just flew. Why, just think, every one at Garden Steps was suspicious of me! I could see it even in the servants’ eyes. I couldn’t stand it, and I was afraid——”