“Evidently some devil of ill fate is mixing up in my affairs. What’s your advice in the matter?”
“Tell me the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth,” suggested Chester Kent.
“Easily done. The question is whether you’ll believe it.”
“If I hadn’t felt pretty sure of your innocence, I shouldn’t have opened the case to you as I’ve done. I’ll believe the truth if you tell it, and tell it all.”
“Very well. I was sitting on my wall when the woman came down the road. I noticed her first when she stopped to look back, and her absurd elegance of dress, expensive and ill fitting, attracted my closer attention. She was carrying a bundle, wrapped in strong paper. It seemed to be heavy, for she shifted it from hand to hand. When she came near, I spoke to her—”
“You spoke to her first?”
“Well, we spoke simultaneously.”
“Why should you speak to her, if she was a stranger to you?”
“See here, Kent! You’ll have to let me tell this in my own way, if I’m to tell it at all.”
“So long as you do tell it. What did she say to you?”