He did not look back. He seemed to have no idea that he had been seen. He wore no cap. I saw him clearly and unmistakably.
So Jim Gainsay had been behind that willow curtain! Jim Gainsay had heard Higgins’s faltering, reluctant revelations. And after brazenly listening to the whole thing, Jim Gainsay had furtively and stealthily slipped away, without intending that I should even be aware of his presence.
Concerned almost as much with this evidence of Jim Gainsay’s duplicity as with Higgins’s tale, I stood stock-still there in that thicket, with wet branches and leaves pressing against me on all sides. Aware finally of a specially rude one scratching my neck I roused myself, pushed out into the path, and took my way back to St. Ann’s.
The thing to do, I realized, was to let O’Leary know at once of Higgins’s story; if anyone could worm the whole tale from the janitor it would be Lance O’Leary. But I shall have to confess that baffled curiosity overcame me, and I resolved to get hold of Higgins immediately and try to make him tell me, at least, whom he saw there in Room 18.
The supper bell was ringing when I entered the south wing. I am not one to slight meals as a rule, but that was one time when I ignored the summons. However, Higgins was not about and upon inquiry someone said she thought he had gone into town. Reluctantly, then, I went to supper.
At the door of the dining room I met several training girls. Melvina Smith was among them and they were talking excitedly in low voices which they hushed as soon as they saw me, and one and all looked guilty.
“Well, what is it?” I said briskly.
Melvina Smith fastened hollow eyes upon me and said in a sepulchral voice:
“Accident has died.”
“Accident!” Having for the moment forgotten the christening party I was at a loss to understand her cryptic utterance, and wondered if she was quite right.