"Horrid old man! But why should I want to see him stabbed?"
He watched her closely.
"I saw you strike him. You didn't have enough strength to send the blow home."
The assurance of her voice increased his doubt. Whatever her mental state she was at least purposeful.
"You need glasses, policeman. Don't neglect your eyes. You have only one pair."
He felt himself against a blank wall, and there was McDonald to think of. He asked one more question.
"When did you last see McDonald's daughter?"
"Maybe at dinner last night," she said. "Nice girl, in spite of her father. I must go back to my knitting, policeman."
Garth left her, hurrying down stairs to the front door. He called the policeman from the shadows of the portico, instructing him to go to the large apartment house on the corner where he would almost certainly find a physician.
As he gave his directions he saw Nora's slender figure cross the street and come up the steps, and, as he looked at the pretty Latin face, expressive of an exceptional intelligence, his morose and puzzled mind brightened. He was surprised to see her now, and a little worried, for a grave menace existed for every one in this house. Moreover, the case mystified him to the point where he felt he must find the solution himself. He didn't care to place himself again under obligations to her. Rather he was ambitious to impress her, perhaps to the removal of her reserve.