"Of course, yes, I remember he had a niece," said Garrison, his mind reverting to the "statement" in his pocket. "But, upon my word, I believe I've forgotten her name."
"He called her Dot," said Mrs. Wilson.
"But her real name?" said Garrison.
"Her real name was Dorothy Booth before she was married," replied Mrs.
Wilson, "but now, of course, it's changed."
Garrison had suddenly turned ashen. He managed to control himself by making a very great effort.
"Perhaps you know her married name?" he said.
"I never forget a thing like that," said Mrs. Wilson. "Her married name is Mrs. Fairfax."
It seemed to Garrison he was fighting in the toils of some astounding maze, where sickening mists arose to clog his brain. He could scarcely believe his senses. A tidal wave of facts and deductions, centering about the personality of Dorothy Booth-Fairfax, surged upon him relentlessly, bearing down and engulfing the faith which he strove to maintain in her honesty.
He had felt from the first there was something deep and dark with mystery behind the girl who had come to his office with her most amazing employment. He had entertained vague doubts upon hearing of wills and money inheritance at the house where she lived in New York.
He recalled the start she had given, while playing at the piano, upon learning he was leaving for Hickwood. Her reticence and the strangeness of the final affair of the necklaces, in connection with this present development, left him almost in despair.