By the time they had packed a small box, Gale drove up in front of the bank.
"I'll take this down," Bessie exclaimed. "It's not heavy."
Mrs. Eustace followed her out of the room.
At the door she stopped. On the other side of the landing was Harding's room. She glanced at the closed door.
Stepping over to it, she tapped. There was no response. She turned the handle; the door was locked.
She did not want to go without a word for him. She opened her bag to see if she had a scrap of paper or a card on which she could scribble a line. As she did so, Bessie came up the stairs to ask if there was anything else she could do.
"No, that is all, Bessie. You might tell Mr. Harding I have gone. He is asleep at present."
Bessie sniffed, with her nose in the air, as she followed her mistress down the stairs. Tell Mr. Harding? Tell the man who was, in Bessie's mind, the person solely responsible for the indignity placed upon her and Mrs. Eustace of being locked in their own rooms by Constable Brennan! All the message he would ever receive through her would do him good, she told herself.
In the office Wallace heard the buggy drive away and caught a glimpse of it as it passed the door. Mrs. Eustace was sitting beside Gale, looking up at him and smiling.
The sound of another vehicle driving up to the door interrupted him. He looked up from his work as Mrs. Burke came into the office.