A knock on the door startled her senses into activity. She ran her fingers hurriedly through her deranged hair and opened the door. Not Calmiden, but Dwight confronted her, looking greatly perturbed.
“I want to talk to you—just a bit—” he hesitated, “if you don’t mind.”
Julie led him in.
He dropped down on the bare edge of the chair that she motioned to, and stared at her aghast. “Lord!” he exclaimed, “you look like a ghost! Have you been ill?”
Julie shook her head. “What have you to tell me?”
He was clearly at a difficulty to reply. Finally he blurted out:
“Why didn’t you come to me, Julie, and let me help you—I’d have been only too proud to do so—instead of playing into the hands of that blackguard?”
Julie paled. “Purcell!” she murmured in dismay.
“Then you know?”
Again she shook her head dumbly.