She had a sense of chill in the room apart from its lack of heat. She could not dissociate her surroundings from the tragedy of Sunday. In her mind’s eye she saw always her aunt’s body lying inert in the throne-shaped chair and in memory she conjured up their last interview on that fatal Sunday afternoon. Her aunt had not spared her feelings. What was it that she had called her—an ingrate! And her last sentence still echoed in Kitty’s ears:
“Mark my words, Kitty, if you don’t conquer this infatuation for Leigh Wallace, it will not be you alone who will suffer. It will kill me.”
As Kitty spread out her cold hands to the blaze her eyes again read the message written by Mrs. Parsons on the mauve-colored paper, which she still clutched in her fingers:
Leigh, you are watched.
CHAPTER XIII
BRIBERY
A resounding knock on the side door, through which she had entered the library a few minutes before, caused Kitty to start violently and her hand reached out instinctively to catch the mantel-piece to steady herself. For a second she rested her weight against it, then, controlling her nervousness, she thrust the mauve paper into the pocket of her coat and with reluctance moved over to the side door. Callers did not usually announce their presence in that manner. Miss Susan Baird had never permitted what she termed “familiarity,” and no friend, no matter what the degree of intimacy, was ever admitted except through the front door. Her dominating character had forced respect for her peculiarities, and Kitty could recall no one, except herself, who had ever cared to cross her aunt in any particular.
With her hand on the door-knob, Kitty hesitated. She was alone in the house and in no mood for visitors. Squaring her shoulders, she pulled the door partly open. Inspector Mitchell was standing on the top step of the small “stoop” which led to the brick walk.