“Yes,” Burke went on, wholly at ease now, since he had broken the ice thus effectually. “You see, if there's a mistake about you, you don't want it to go any further—not a mite further, that's sure. So, you see, now, that's one of the reasons why I must know just who you are.” Then, in his turn, Burke put the query that the girl had put to him a little while before. “You see that, don't you?”
“Oh, yes, yes!” was the instant agreement. “You should have told me all about this horrid thing in the first place.” Now, the girl's manner was transformed. She smiled wistfully on the Inspector, and the glance of the blue eyes was very kind, subtly alluring. Yet in this unbending, there appeared even more decisively than hitherto the fine qualities in bearing of one delicately nurtured. She sank down in a chair by the desk, and forthwith spoke with a simplicity that in itself was somehow peculiarly potent in its effect on the official who gave attentive ear.
“My name is Helen Travers West,” she announced.
Burke started a little in his seat, and regarded the speaker with a new deference as he heard that name uttered.
“Not the daughter of the railway president?” he inquired.
“Yes,” the girl admitted. Then, anew, she displayed a serious agitation over the thought of any possible publicity in this affair.
“Oh, please, don't tell any one,” she begged prettily. The blue eyes were very imploring, beguiling, too. The timid smile that wreathed the tiny mouth was marvelously winning. The neatly gloved little hands were held outstretched, clasped in supplication. “Surely, sir, you see now quite plainly why it must never be known by any one in all the wide, wide world that I have ever been brought to this perfectly dreadful place—though you have been quite nice!” Her voice dropped to a note of musical prayerfulness. The words were spoken very softly and very slowly, with intonations difficult for a man to deny. “Please let me go home.” She plucked a minute handkerchief from her handbag, put it to her eyes, and began to sob quietly.
The burly Inspector of Police was moved to quick sympathy. Really, when all was said and done, it was a shame that one like her should by some freak of fate have become involved in the sordid, vicious things that his profession made it obligatory on him to investigate. There was a considerable hint of the paternal in his air as he made an attempt to offer consolation to the afflicted damsel.
“That's all right, little lady,” he exclaimed cheerfully. “Now, don't you be worried—not a little bit. Take it from me, Miss West.... Just go ahead, and tell me all you know about this Turner woman. Did you see her yesterday?”
The girl's sobs ceased. After a final dab with the minute handkerchief, she leaned forward a little toward the Inspector, and proceeded to put a question to him with great eagerness.