"A very good idea," Mr. Browne defended. "I'm not sure that isn't the best way to conceal such a stock of valuables."
"But buried where?" pursued the girl.
"That I don't know," said the jeweler.
CHAPTER VI
LUCILLE
"I am Miss Lucille Darrel."
People are usually cognizant of their own names, but few could throw more convincing certainty into the announcement than the speaker. One felt sure at once that her name was as she stated and had been so for a long time. The first adjective one would think of applying to Miss Darrel would be "positive." She was that by every implication of her being. Her hair was positively white, her eyes positively black. Her manner and expression were positive, and her very walk, as she stepped into the Pellbrook living room, was positive and unhesitating.
Iris chanced to be there alone, for the moment; alone, that is, save for the casket containing the body of Ursula Pell. The great room, set in order for the funeral, was filled with rows of folding chairs, and the oppressive odor of massed flowers permeated the place.
The girl stood beside the casket, tears rolling down her cheeks and her whole body shaking with suppressed sobs.