“Too tired to get up before six in the morning,” supplemented Mary.
“Where did she go when she went down the avenue?” asked Nick. “Did you see whether she got on a car?”
“I didn’t see, sir,” was Mary’s reply. “But it would have been easy to do, if she wanted to.”
“Look here, Carter!” interrupted Bentham impatiently. “This is sheer waste of time. What if my daughter did take an early-morning walk? There is nothing remarkable in that. She is a healthy young girl, with a love of nature. When can you enjoy nature better than in the beginning of a fine day? But it has nothing to do with this loss of my papers. How could it have any bearing on such a matter?”
“Still, I should like to know,” insisted Nick. “This is all I want to ask of these two young women, but I should like a few more words with Miss Bentham. Perhaps Mary will tell her so when she goes out?”
Mary looked inquiringly at her employer. He nodded savagely, and Mary and Maggie left the room.
When Clarice came in, a few moments later, she appeared to be slightly surprised, but she took the chair her father pointed to without remark.
“Mr. Carter desires to ask you one or two more questions, my dear,” blurted out her father angrily. “I don’t see the necessity, but perhaps I shall understand later.”
His accent and manner said, plainly enough, that he did not expect to be convinced, but he meant to give Nick Carter all the opportunity he sought.
“I shall be only too pleased to tell you anything I can, Mr. Carter,” she said. “But I feel as if I have given you all the information I have—which is simply nothing at all.”