"There's just one sort of publicity that's better than talking," said Bristow laconically; "aloofness, mystery. It makes people wonder, keeps them talking."
It happened as Bristow had thought. Greenleaf, going down the walk, met the stranger, special correspondent of a New York paper. They had a short colloquy, the newspaper man looking frequently toward No. 9, and finally they turned and went down Manniston Road.
Bristow, leaving his chair to go back to the sleeping porch, saw Miss Kelly come out of No. 5 and hurry in his direction. He waited for her.
"Miss Fulton wants to see you, Mr. Bristow," said the nurse. "She asked me to tell you it's very important."
He was frankly surprised.
"Wants to see me, Miss Kelly?"
"Yes; at once, if you can come."
"Why, certainly."
He stepped into the house and got his hat.
"How is Miss Fulton?" he inquired, descending the steps with Miss Kelly.