“I’m the only person here they know anything about, that they care to trust. It’s a devilish position, trying to hide what you think, trying to state only what you know, fairly, without personal feeling or prejudice. But it’s up to me to do it till we round up something. I don’t want to get anybody in wrong, but, good lord, if I knew any one was—didn’t guess, was sure of it—I’d give the information up just as quick as I could get across to that library.”
Her hope was over and she saw now how wild it had been. With a heart like stone she sat by him, feeling the contact of his body, his arm pressed against her side, knowing herself as far removed from his comfort and help as though an ocean lay between them.
The light in the garden was fading, an even soft dusk was gathering. There were no splendors of sunset to-night, day was dying without ceremonial rites. The hurrying clouds had thickened and were a sagging gray pall with rays of fog drifting below. Suddenly the doorway of the living-room sprang into the dimness, an illumined square, and Miss Pinkney was visible moving about lighting the lamps.
“No moon to-night,” said Bassett, and getting up, drew her to her feet. “Come, let’s go in. It’s too chilly for you out here.”
It was not till they had gathered round the supper table that Rawson’s absence was revealed. Miss Pinkney, coming in with the teapot, saw the empty chair and frowned. Though subdued, her spirit was not broken, and she could not tamely submit to these minions of the law disregarding the meal hours.
“Is Mr. Rawson coming to his supper?” she remarked with an acid note.
“Mr. Rawson’s away on business,” Williams answered. “You can keep something for him.”
No more was said and the meal proceeded on its dismal way.
XIV
After supper Bassett and Williams retired to the library. They were surprised and intrigued by the length of Rawson’s absence. He had been gone over two hours and what could have held him on the mainland so long was difficult to imagine unless a new lead had developed. This was Bassett’s idea, also his hope. To have suspicion lifted from Flora would be the first lightening of the grinding distress he had felt since the murder. Williams wondered if he could have come on anything about Joe Tracy; but Bassett shook the suggestion off with a shrug. He could check up on Joe in half an hour; besides, there was nothing to be looked for in that line. His confidence was not assumed, his mind was untroubled by any fears about Joe. That something had turned up which might head the chase in a new direction was so encouraging a thought, that, by contrast to his sensations for the last twenty-four hours, he felt almost cheerful.