“Yes, sir,” she replied, smiling at him over the cash register. “That is my name.”
“There is a little matter about which I wish to question you,” said Chick. “I refer to what occurred last evening when you—there, don’t be alarmed!” he quickly digressed. “There is nothing for you to fear, Miss Fielding, if you have done nothing wrong, and I feel quite sure that you have not.”
She had turned very pale, with a frightened expression leaping up in her eyes. She shrank from him, trembling perceptibly, until his hasty assurance somewhat relieved her.
“No, no, I have done nothing wrong, sir,” she protested, with quite pathetic fervor. “How did you know—how did you learn about it? I did only what I—oh, sir, I could see nothing else to do! I—I wanted to avoid publicity.”
“Compose yourself,” Chick said quietly. “I can see quite plainly that you were more sinned against than sinner. You have nothing to fear from me, Miss Fielding, if you tell me the truth, and I think there will be no need for any publicity.”
“Are you a policeman?” she asked tremulously.
“I am a detective,” Chick admitted. “You must not mention it to others, however, or the fact that I have questioned you. There have been other cases very like your own, Miss Fielding, and I am quietly investigating them. You must tell me the truth, therefore, and I think I can safely assure you that it will be only to your advantage. Will you do so?”
“Yes, yes,” she replied, much relieved by Chick’s kindly voice and manner. “As a matter of fact, sir, I really have nothing to conceal. I am anxious only to avoid publicity.”
“That is why you gave Doctor Devoll a fictitious name?” Chick asked, smiling.
“Yes, yes,” Nellie admitted, coloring deeply. “But I had one other reason also.”