“Oh, yes, it’s a diamond-shaped monogram—awfully pretty. I gave it to him last Christmas; you can’t think how pleased he was. D.H.C.—Derrick Horn Carver—— Who was Lola?”
“She was a—a girl who was with him.”
“Was she? Where did it happen?”
“In New Jersey, somewhere this side of Princeton.”
“Please tell me just what happened. Did another automobile hit them?”
“No.”
After a long moment she said again in that dreadful, gentle little voice.
“Well? Then what was it? I’m waiting.”
“Anne, I don’t know how to tell you. I’d rather have the heart torn out of my body then tell you. Wait——”
“I’m through waiting. Is it as bad as that? Hurry up, please. What happened? Where did they find him?”