I watched Anita. She stood a few moments in unsmiling superintendence, while the women settled themselves and Mr. Flood sorted his papers and cleared his throat. Then, as I had known she would do, she returned soft-footed to her purpose. At the same moment I left Kent Rehan’s side. When she reached the archway between the two rooms, I was there.
“And now——” she confronted me—“what happened?”
“I told you.”
She smiled.
“Did you? I have forgotten. Tell me again.”
“Anita—he slipped. He fell. He was shutting the door.”
“Did he replace this?” She opened her little hand. The wedge of paper that I had twisted lay on her palm. “It was shut in the door when I opened it just now.” She waited a moment. Then, with a certain triumph—“Well?”
I said nothing. What was there to say?
She tossed it from her.
“Don’t be silly, Jenny! What was it? Who was it?” Her eyes were horribly intelligent.