"Oh! this is dreadful—dreadful!" craftily moaned Cervera, with tears now filling her eyes.
"I am sorry for you, señora, but I must do my duty," said Nick, rising.
"I know you must—but, oh! what shall I do? To whom can I appeal? Oh! if Mr. Venner were only here!"
"You can send a messenger for him later, or dispatch one of your servants from here," suggested Nick.
"I have none here," sobbed Cervera. "They are all out, and I am alone. I have no one—"
She suddenly stopped, then drew herself up with resentful dignity, and wiped the tears from her eyes.
"I am a fool to be so weak!" she exclaimed, bitterly. "Detective Carter, I know nothing of the crime you mention. I never heard of Mary Barton. This arrest is an outrage, and I will appeal to the highest court in the land for vindication!"
"That's your privilege," said Nick, shortly. "But at present you must go with me."
"I cannot go as I am," declared Cervera, passionately stamping her foot. "I am in evening dress—attired to receive a caller. I shall take cold if I go out of doors in—"
"Oh, you may change your dress," Nick curtly interrupted, the need of which was decidedly obvious. "I'll give you time for that."