She drove along at an even speed, following her map and watching for the landmarks she had noticed on her previous trip. About noon she arrived at the hotel where she and Max had eaten dinner on Sunday evening, and she drew the car to a stop at its entrance.
The same clerk was at the desk; he remembered Mary Louise and asked immediately how her head was.
“It’s almost well,” she replied. “But I want to visit that house again and find out who lives there and what hit me.”
“To collect damages?”
“No, not specially. But there is something mysterious about that house, and I’d like to see it in broad daylight. This time I want to take a policeman with me. Have you any in Center Square?”
“We have a constable. He might be willing to go along.”
“Would you be kind enough to ring him up and ask him to come here while I eat my lunch in the dining room? After all, he has a right to help me find out what hit me.”
“Sure, I will, miss. And he’ll be glad to come. He’s mighty obliging. Besides, he ain’t got much to do.”
Mary Louise was hungry, and she enjoyed her lunch immensely. The food wasn’t dainty like the Stoddard House, or fancy, like the Bellevue, but it was wholesome and well cooked, and the keen air had given her a good appetite.
When she had finished eating and returned to the main room of the little country hotel, she found the officer waiting for her. He was a stout, middle-aged man with a pleasant smile, and he wore a baggy gray suit with a stringy tie. He was very much interested in the story of Mary Louise’s previous visit to Center Square, and of her reason for wanting to see the ugly woman again who was occupying the house.