“Yes, yes—to be sure,” Trask broke in. “But what of that? I’ll bet you’ve nothing to tell him incriminating to yourself. You exaggerate your connection with this matter. I’ll bet you were there that night on some perfectly innocent errand—at least so far as Doctor Waring’s death is concerned.”
“Oh, I was!” Anita said, and then, as quickly, “But I wasn’t there at night—it was in the afternoon.”
Lockwood groaned in spirit. Everything this girl said made her more of a prevaricator, even though she might be innocent of crime. Surely she was mixed up in the matter, and must know who gave the fatal stab—if she didn’t do it herself. If only Nogi could be found. He, of course, was implicated.
“I’ll get a lawyer for you, if you’ll let me, Miss Austin,” Lockwood said, unable to resist his impulse to help her.
“I am a lawyer,” said Maurice Trask, “I here and now offer my services to Miss Austin. If you’ll accept, my dear young lady, I promise to use my best efforts to do all that can be done for you.”
“But do I have to tell you—” again Anita began, perplexedly—her brows straight.
Trask gazed at her fixedly, and then he said, “That will be between us. You will decide when we talk things over, what to tell me and what not.”
He spoke as to a fractious child, and his voice was kind and helpful even though his inflections were not cultured.
Lockwood looked at him uneasily. Might not this man’s kindness and assistance to the distressed girl lead her to feel such gratitude that it would be no hard matter for Trask to win more than gratitude? Lockwood was nervously sensitive to the interest Trask took in Anita, and well knew his state of mind toward the little beauty.
And, instead of being lessened by the trend of suspicion toward Anita, Lockwood’s own infatuation deepened with every glance he allowed himself at the lovely face.