“That’s just what I wondered when the note was brought me,” explained Starr, a blend of sadness and self-reproach in his tones. “Miss Darrow was a strange woman, full of subtleties and queer whims. The note startled me at first; then I decided it was only a jest. At any rate, it was time for the curtain, and I dismissed the matter from my mind. Now, in the light of what has happened, I can see it was meant as a warning.”
“Warning?” echoed the stout man.
“Undoubtedly.” Starr gazed regretfully into space. “In some manner Miss Darrow must have become aware that Mr. Shei was in the house, and she chose this method of warning me of his presence. I was a fool not to see it.”
He paced back and forth, running his fingers through his thick hair and muttering self-reproaches. The stout man looked as if he were trying to untangle a mental knot. Again he read the note.
“If Miss Darrow wanted to tip you off that Mr. Shei was in the house, why didn’t she say so in plain words?”
“Facetiousness,” said Starr grimly. “Virginia Darrow was the kind of woman you would expect to be facetious at her own funeral. Why didn’t I realize that she was trying to warn me? I remember now that she behaved in a peculiar manner all evening. Whenever I happened to look in her direction, I found her gazing at me in a strange way. I didn’t understand then, but I suppose now that she was trying to send me an ocular message. When that failed, she sent me the note. Oh, why didn’t I——”
He made a gesture of distress and self-disgust. Helen, watching his every movement, remembered that it was Miss Darrow’s odd way of staring at Starr that had first attracted her attention to the woman. The recollection started a train of new thoughts, but Culligore’s voice interrupted it.
“If Miss Darrow was right and Mr. Shei was in the house,” he told the fat man, “then you and I might as well hand in our badges and look for new jobs.”
The other jerked up his head. “You don’t think that——” he began in startled tones, then broke off and grinned complacently. “Not a chance of that. Mr. Shei couldn’t have been in the audience. I gave all of them a pretty stiff quiz, and every one gave a good account of himself. Anyhow, they’re the kind that get their names and pictures into the society columns of the Sunday papers. A bunch of harmless nuts—that’s all.”
He looked at Starr, as if realizing that the epithet had been a trifle brusque, but the manager seemed amused rather than offended.