When I looked at Miss Maitland I forgot all about suffering mothers. She'd sunk down in the chair, her head resting against its back, her eyes closed. She was as white as a corpse, and I wheeled about looking round the room for some kind of first aid and muttering, "Gee, she's fainted!"
A whisper came out of her lips:
"Nothing—all right—in a minute."
There was a bottle of distilled water in a corner and I went to it, drew off a glass and brought it to her. She couldn't hold it and I took her round the shoulders and pulled her up, saying out of the inner depths of me, that's always mushy about anything hurt and forlorn:
"You, poor soul, here take this. I'm sorry for you, and I can't help being sorry that I had to give you away."
I held the glass to her lips and she drank a little. Then I let her fall back and stood watching her, and I felt mean. She raised her eyes and sent a look into mine that I'll never forget—it made me feel meaner than a yellow dog—for it was the look of a suffering soul.
"Thanks," was all she said.
[CHAPTER XXI—SIGNED "CLANSMEN"]
The consultation in the office resulted in Esther Maitland being taken to O'Malley's flat in Stuyvesant Square, where his wife and sister agreed to be responsible for her. This course had been decided upon after some heated argument. Suzanne had clamored for her arrest, but the others were still determined to keep the affair out of the public eye, which, if Esther was brought before a magistrate, would have been impossible. The Janneys were more than ever convinced that Price was the prime mover, and the girl's attitude had been prompted by the combined motives of love and gain. George, who knew his father's every phase, noticed that the old man was reserved in his comments, and wondered if his conviction had been shaken by Miss Maitland's desperate denials. But if it was he said nothing, agreeing that with the girl hidden and unable to communicate with the outside world, they could concentrate their attention on Chapman and through him locate the child.
Miss Maitland was docile to all their suggestions. She would go wherever they wanted, place herself under the surveillance of the two women, and do whatever was asked of her. She went off in a taxi with O'Malley, and Molly was sent back to Grasslands. There was no need of her services in town and it was probable that Chapman, believing his confederate to be there, would call up the place.