"I can't tell you that. I can't tell you anything. I am the most miserable girl on God's earth!" and I heard tears in Vicky's voice, and a sob choked her utterance.
"Now go," she said, after a moment, "I can't stand any more. Please go, and do what you can for me, without getting yourself into trouble. Go, and don't look back to see how I make my exit, will you?"
"Indeed, I won't do that. Your confidences are safe with me, Vicky, and I will do all in my power to help you, in any way I can."
"Then go now," she said, and a gentle pressure of her hand on my arm urged me toward the door.
I went without another word, and neither while in the street, nor after gaining my own house, did I look back for another glimpse of Vicky Van.
And yet, try as I would, maneuver as I might, I couldn't prevent the arrival of Fleming Stone.
The Schuyler sisters were determined to have the great detective, and though Mrs. Schuyler wasn't so anxious, yet she raised not the slightest objection, and after some persuasion, Stone agreed to take the case.
I was present at his first call to discuss details and was immensely interested in my first sight of the man.
Tall, well-formed, and of a gravely courteous manner, he impressed me as the most magnetically attractive man I had ever seen. His iron-gray hair and deep-set, dark eyes gave him a dignity that I had never before associated with my notions of a detective.
The Schuyler sisters were frankly delighted with him.