“I can’t. Moreover, didn’t she change instantly her course of life and disappear from the gay world?”
“I believe that is so.”
“And hasn’t she remained disappeared?”
Carpenter nodded.
“Then I’m inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt. I’ll trust her, until I’ve seen something to warrant distrust—bearing in mind, however, what you have just told me, and the possibility of my being mistaken. I reckon I can veer quickly enough if—”
The telephone rang. Carpenter picked up the receiver.
“Yes, Mr. Harleston is here,” he replied, passing the receiver across.
“Yes,” said Harleston. “Oh, how do you do, Mrs. Clephane.... Very nice, indeed.... Be delighted!... In ten minutes, I’ll be there. Good-bye.” He pushed back the instrument. “Mrs. Clephane has telephoned that she must see me at once. Meanwhile—the key-word, my friend.”
Carpenter drummed on the table, and frowned at the door that had closed behind Harleston.
“The man’s bewitched,” he muttered. “However I threw a slight scare into him, and maybe it will make him pause; he is not quite devoid of sense. Bah! All women are vampires.”