“Yes. I’ll try to get rid of him.”
“Then I guess that’s all,” Sylvia said, but she made no move to leave. She sat staring moodily at the pool.
“Anything else on your mind?” asked the gardener.
“I—I wanted to ask you something, but I scarcely know how.”
The gardener waited, watching the girl’s face intently.
“You never liked Grant Atherwald,” she began nervously.
“Say, what are you driving at?” the man asked quickly. “You’re not trying to hint that I had anything to do with Grant Atherwald’s disappearance?”
The two faced each other and Sylvia’s gaze was the first to fall.
“No, no, of course not,” she said.
“I don’t know any more about his disappearance than you do,” the man told her angrily. “I didn’t even see him on the day of the wedding.”