"But now, Miss Fairchild, does it not occur to you as a bit remarkable that out of all the developments not one circumstance has appeared tending to throw any light on the mysterious Paquita?"
Of a sudden she threw the back of one slender hand to her lips—obviously a characteristic gesture; her look assumed an expression of startled surprise. Charlotte's customary repose of manner was so placid that the involuntary movement was doubly impressive and significant.
"Ah," said Converse, quietly, "something has recurred to you."
"That is true," she at last returned, "and perhaps I should not have mentioned it. But you certainly have enlisted my sympathies, even though I might have no personal interest in these tragedies; and God knows I am anxious enough to see Clay, Mobley, all my friends freed of this wretched nightmare. What struck me so abruptly was this: ever since Joyce's trip to Mexico, and the presentation of the dagger paper-knife to Mobley, he has playfully addressed his sister as 'Paquita.' I had forgotten it; but the nickname spread among her intimates, and she subscribed her letters to them usually in that way. The name appealed to her, and I suppose I have notes now from Joyce signed 'Paquita.'"
"This is certainly very interesting," said he with marked gravity; and Charlotte continued with increased animation:
"It just occurred to me that the circumstance may have become known to some one who has used it with a special significance, at present unknown to you."
"Possibly. But I was not thinking of it in that way."
Although she waited, he vouchsafed no further explanation. Instead, he remained, for possibly a minute, in quiet reflection; then turning to Charlotte, he asked in a matter-of-fact way:
"Do you think you could lay your hand upon any of those notes? I should like to have a glimpse of Miss Joyce's penmanship."
She brightened as at a sudden pleasant thought. "If so, they are in my escritoire. Just a moment, please." She glided into the house and returned in a few moments with a half-dozen or so heavy, cream-tinted envelopes. Without comment she handed them to Converse, eyeing him expectantly as he took up one at random.