Meantime, Millicent was demanding of Pennington Wise an explanation of the astonishing Zizi.
“Don’t worry about her,” he said, smiling. “Don’t think about her. She never does a wrong thing—in detective work, I mean. She will some day—I daresay—and it may be she has now. But she acts on impulse, on intuition, on what some people call a hunch. And I’ve never known her to slip up. She is a wonder—but don’t try to understand her—for you can’t.”
“But will she go to New Hampshire—all alone by herself? At night!”
“Oh, yes, and she’ll take care of herself.”
“Louis will go with her,” Phyllis said, “I know he will.”
“No, Miss Lindsay, you’re mistaken there. Zizi won’t let your brother accompany her.”
“I’m sure it would be all right,” Millicent observed; “at work on a case, you know.”
“Right enough, but Zizi won’t let him go because she doesn’t want him to. Now, as to Mr Gleason’s will. Did you two ladies know about its terms?”
“We weren’t certain,” Millicent said, “for my brother changed it quite often. He was ready to settle a large amount on Phyllis at once if she would consent to marry him, but he had already made a will leaving his fortune equally divided between us two. He never liked Louis, rather, he disapproved of him. Of late, Louis has run wild——”
“It isn’t his fault,” Phyllis defended; “he has been duped and deluded by a lot of men with whom he had no business to associate at all. But let’s leave Louis out of it, for Mr Wise has declared he doesn’t suspect him, and he is in no other way concerned in this business.”