“I have tried there and got tired of waiting,” she answered quite simply.
For a moment Harley’s suspicions were almost dispelled, and, observing an empty cab approaching, he signalled to the man to pull up.
“Where do you want to go to?” he inquired, opening the door.
“I am due at Doctor McMurdoch’s,” she replied, stepping in.
Paul Harley hesitated, glancing from the speaker to the driver.
“I wonder if you have time to come with me,” said Phil Abingdon. “I know the doctor wants to see you.”
“I will come with pleasure,” replied Harley, a statement which was no more than true.
Accordingly he gave the necessary directions to the taxi man and seated himself beside the girl in the cab.
“I am awfully glad of an opportunity of a chat with you, Mr. Harley,” said Phil Abingdon. “The last few days have seemed like one long nightmare to me.” She sighed pathetically. “Surely Doctor McMurdoch is right, and all the horrible doubts which troubled us were idle ones, after all?”
She turned to Harley, looking almost eagerly into his face. “Poor daddy hadn’t an enemy in the world, I am sure,” she said. “His extraordinary words to you no doubt have some simple explanation. Oh, it would be such a relief to know that his end was a natural one. At least it would dull the misery of it all a little bit.”