Gordon started to speak, but Anita interrupted him.
“Go, please,” she said, quietly, and Lockwood obeyed.
“I cannot blame you, Mrs. Adams,” Miss Mystery said; “I daresay you have to consider your other boarders, and I thank you for your kindness and forbearance you have shown me so far.”
The tears were in the big dark eyes, and even as they moved Mrs. Adams to sympathy, she also wondered if they were real. “A girl who would redden her lips would be capable of any deceit and duplicity,” Esther Adams reasoned.
But she went on, calmly.
“I come now, Miss Austin, to tell you that Mr. Trask is down stairs and wants to see you. He wants you to go to his house to stay. The Peytons are there, of course, and he offers you the shelter of his roof and protection until this dreadful matter is settled up.”
“Mr. Trask!” Anita looked her amazement.
“Yes; now don’t be silly. You very well know he is mad about you, and he hopes to get you freed and then marry you.”
“Oh, he does!” It was the old, scornful Miss Mystery who spoke. “Well, will you please tell him from me—”
“Now, don’t you be too hoity-toity, miss! You’re mighty lucky to have a home offered you—”