Her eyes were lowered.
"I had to—I mean, I simply obeyed an impulse," she confessed.
In an almost involuntary outburst she added: "I am in very great trouble. There is no one in the world but you that can give me any help."
All the pain she had caused him was forgotten in the joy of that instant. How he longed to take her in his arms and fold her in security against his breast! And he dared not even be tender.
"I am trying to help you, Dorothy," he said, "but I was utterly dumfounded, there in the crush on the bridge. Where did you go?"
"I ran along and was helped to escape the traffic," she explained. "Then I soon got a car, with my mind made up to come over here just as soon as I could. This is the home of my stepbrother's wife—Mrs. Foster Durgin. I had to come over and—and warn—I mean, I had to come, and so I came."
He had felt her disappearance had nothing to do with the vanishing of the chauffeur. Her statement confirmed his belief.
"Durgin?" Garrison repeated. "Didn't some Durgin, a nephew of Hardy, claim the body, up at Branchville?"
Dorothy was pale again, but resolute.
"Yes—Paul. He's Foster's brother."