But she made no move to go. Her eyes rested upon Eaton steadily; and while he had been appealing to her, a flush had come to her cheeks and faded away and come again and again with her impulses as he spoke.
"If you didn't do it, why don't you help us?" she cried.
"Help you?"
"Yes: tell us who you are and what you are doing? Why did you take the train because Father was on it, if you didn't mean any harm to him? Why don't you tell us where you are going or where you have been or what you have been doing? What did your appointment with Mr. Warden mean? And why, after he was killed, did you disappear until you followed Father on this train? Why can't you give the name of anybody you know or tell us of any one who knows about you?"
Eaton sank back against the seat away from her, and his eyes shifted to Avery standing ready to go, and then fell.
"I might ask you in return," Eaton said, "why you thought it worth while, Miss Santoine, to ask so much about myself when you first met me and before any of this had happened? You were not so much interested then in me personally as that; and it was not because you could have suspected I had been Mr. Warden's friend; for when the conductor charged that, it was a complete surprise to you."
"No; I did not suspect that."
"Then why were you curious about me?"
Before Avery could speak or even make a gesture, Harriet seemed to come to a decision. "My Father asked me to," she said.
"Your father? Asked you to do what?"