The chief looked at her keenly.
“I’m sure you will,” he said slowly. “I should hate to be the man to do you an injury, Miss Marlowe.”
This shrewd, worldly man had read the fair face at a glance. He saw in the flash of those gray eyes an indomitable spirit.
“I might forgive one to myself, but to my sister, never!” said Marion, sternly.
The chief was gazing at her in admiration. She looked like a queen with her head poised so defiantly.
“Here is Frederic Stanton’s address,” he said, after a minute, as he glanced over a directory. “Why, he is a prominent society man, Miss Marlowe. He is as proud as Lucifer. Are you sure he will help you?”
Poor Marion sighed.
“He must,” she said, slowly, “for I have not five dollars in the world, and there is no one else I can look to.”
The head of the great Detective Bureau did a few minutes’ thinking, then he gave Marion some instructions, all of which she promised to follow.
“These are very necessary,” he told her as he finished, “for if this villain has wronged your sister he must be punished without mercy. And now you had best go right up to ‘The Norwood’ and see your uncle. If he will help you, all right; if he won’t, why just let me know. You can stay at that hotel that you mentioned at present, and one of my men will be on hand at the theatre this evening.”