Penny dropped the stamped envelope into a convenient corner mailbox, and then drove toward the outskirts of the city. Nearing Drexel Boulevard it suddenly occurred to her that she never had found time to revisit Matthew Judson’s home.
“Pauletta owes me an explanation for the way she acted the other day,” she thought. “I have a notion to stop and see if she’s alone.”
Penny impulsively spun the wheel, and followed the boulevard to the Judson home. The iron gate stood open. She drove through, up the curve of cement to the house.
In response to her knock, an untidy colored maid admitted her to a dark, dusty living room. As she awaited Pauletta, her wandering gaze noted a number of significant details. The walls had not been decorated in many years, upholstered furniture had assumed a moth-eaten appearance, and the entire room seemed spiritless.
Pauletta came slowly down the circular stairway. She hesitated as she recognized Penny, but could not retreat.
“How do you do,” she said somewhat stiffly. “Nice of you to call.”
“I think you know why I came,” said Penny. “We were unable to talk when I was here before.”
“I’ve told you all there was to it,” Pauletta declared, seating herself opposite the girl. “Frankly, I can’t see that the affair is any of your concern. I wore the disguise because I didn’t wish to be recognized on board the Goodtime.”
“Your explanation isn’t very satisfactory, I’m afraid. Tillie Fellows is staying at our home now.”
“What of it?”