The visitor was not easily discerned in the gloom, but Betty noted that he wore a cap pulled down over his eyes. There was a toughness about the man’s face — all that Betty could see of it. Bob turned suddenly.
“Hello, Betty,” he said. “I’m going out for a while. I’ll see you later.”
He was wearing his coat and held his hat in his hand. He did not introduce the stranger. He and the other man departed, leaving Betty astonished.
THE evening dragged slowly by. Betty read a book in the big library — a room as gloomy as the rest of the house. Betty was used to this atmosphere, although at times it chilled her.
It was nearly midnight when Betty retired. Before she went to sleep, she heard the front door close ponderously. The stairs creaked.
Bob Galvin had returned.
Silent minutes went by. Betty could not sleep. Somehow, her mind kept picturing the old study downstairs. It was there that Bob had received the odd visitor tonight.
Betty was seized by an uncontrollable impulse to go downstairs. She felt for her slippers; then recalled that they were in her trunk, which had not been brought in from the country.
Barefooted, she stole down the carpeted stairs, with one hand on the banister. There was no creaking under her light tread. She moved noiselessly along the hall, then stopped suddenly as she turned the corner that led to the door of the study.
There was dim light in the hall, coming from the study. The door of the room was open; and the table lamp must be on!