“Not in such times as these,” said the clerk. “It is generally the case, that, when innocent people are suspected, they demand an investigation, instead of shrinking from it.”
“That depends upon circumstances,” replied Mildred coolly. She was endeavoring to prolong the conversation as much as possible in order to think what was best to be done. If she could avoid this search, she would be safe. A score of schemes rapidly presented themselves during these few moments. She thought of bribery; but that would be an acknowledgment of guilt. If there had been a fire in the room, she would have hastily thrown the dangerous kerchief into it; in that case all that the authorities could do would be to imprison her for a while as a suspicious character. But there was no fire, and she did not have even a match. If Mildred had only known it, all her scheming was to no purpose, for she had been watched. That wiry, pert little woman, one of the trio had been in the room over-head, which had been prepared for suspicious characters. When Mildred had suddenly looked up to the ceiling, in her examination of the room, the woman involuntarily drew back, and in so doing had caused the lump of loose plaster to fall. She saw Mildred make the rent in the dress, and that was enough. Mildred at last came to the conclusion that it would be advisable to submit with the best grace possible, and trust to Providence for protection. Sending up a silent, but earnest prayer, she said:
“I suppose you have brought this lady to do the work? If so, it is useless to discuss the matter. So proceed.”
“That is right,” said the clerk. “You can both go into the room, and close the door. This officer and myself will await the result in the hall, here.”
Accordingly the little woman, with eyes, as Mildred thought, keen enough to see through a mill-stone, entered the apartment, and closed the door.
“Well, what do you wish?” asked Mildred.
“Let me have your dress first, please.”
“You wish me to take it off?”
“Yes, take it off.”