Helen’s spitefulness was undisguised, and her mother looked pained and regretful. Both these women had hoped that Gordon Lockwood’s affections might turn toward Helen, and the older one realized that such speeches as this would in no way further their plans.
But Helen was thoroughly jealous of Miss Mystery, for more reasons than one, and she let her unbridled tongue expose her feelings.
Cray knew all this, and therefore took Helen’s statements with a grain of salt. And yet, he soliloquized, she would scarcely make up that rigmarole of the dress trimming. He fancied it was true. And why shouldn’t it be? The evidence of Anita Austin’s presence in John Waring’s study that fatal night was far too strong to be ignored. Moreover, the girl’s possession of the money and the ruby pin had yet to be satisfactorily explained. It was unthinkable that anyone should have stolen these things and “planted” them in Miss Austin’s bureau drawer!
“I’d like to see this young woman,” said Trask, suddenly.
“I’m going over to see her now, come along,” invited Cray, who was a little impressed by the perspicuity of this stranger.
“I’m going, too,” declared Helen Peyton, and as Lockwood couldn’t keep away, they all went over to the Adams house.
In the cosy sitting-room they congregated, and Mrs. Adams went upstairs to summon Anita.
She found the room locked. When, in response to a repeated summons, the door was opened, Mrs. Adams faced a tearful, sad-faced girl, who asked indifferently what was wanted.
“You’ll have to come down stairs,” the landlady said; “Mr. Cray is there, and—and some others. They want to see you.”
“I won’t go down. I don’t want to see anybody.”