“My name is not Henderson—I told you that before! My name is Donalds—William Donalds, importer. Here! Here’s a card!”
From his pocket he pulled not one card, but many, and they fell all over the table.
“Donalds!” he repeated. “Now you know with whom you have to deal. This farce must end! This—”
He stopped, because such an extraordinary change had come over the woman. Her face had grown alarmingly white, and she was staring at him with a sort of horror.
“You—you must be Mr. Henderson!” she said faintly.
“I will not be!” he shouted. “I [Pg 255]refuse! Nothing can induce me to assume a false name! You have kidnaped my grandchild—”
“Your niece, you mean.”
“I don’t! I mean my grandchild. I have no niece. I—”
“Wait a minute!” she interrupted. She rose to her feet and stood, holding the back of the chair. “I’m afraid,” she said, “that there’s been—some terrible mistake!”
“You mean—the child? Quick! Something has happened to the child?”