“I don’t think I could bear the ordeal of standing face to face with the wretches and talking to them,” said Mignon. “Why, I looked upon that woman as a friend—nay, as more than a friend; I stepped across the social gulf that divides us and made her my companion and confidante. Oh, I cannot go!”
“Remember, it is for your father. That thought alone will give you both courage and strength.”
“But they may treat me as they did poor papa.”
“There is no danger.”
“But I fear there may be.”
“You need have no fear. I shall accompany you.”
“But they know you,” said the girl. “Even having you with me, I feel a dread. I can’t describe it, but a nameless fear seems to weigh me down since you told me who those persons were.”
“You will shake that off,” said the detective. “I will return in about an hour and a half.”
Nick Carter was punctual to his appointment, and he was so cleverly disguised that Mignon, although expecting him, did not recognize him.
He was got up as one of those angelic young men who are to be met with on the uptown streets and about hotel corridors and the clubs.