“I—don’t know. Maybe it was because—because I had hopes of finding my brother’s murderer.”
“You knew him?”
She shook her head. “No. Oh, I hadn’t any set plan. I just imagined, somehow, that on this great engineering project I might come face to face with the man who——”
“And if you had?” Nash interrupted.
A quick, hard light flamed to her eyes, only to die away as suddenly as it had come. “I don’t know,” she faltered. “I am only a woman, and——”
“Did it ever occur to you, Miss Trask,” Nash ventured to ask, “that your brother might have been as much to blame as—the other man?”
“But—but he was my brother,” she replied.
“Of course.” Nash smiled faintly. “A year ago, Miss Trask, I worked on the New York Aqueduct.”
“You?” She raised her eyes quickly. “Then maybe you knew——”
“Your brother?” Nash nodded. “Yes, I knew him.”