By this action, I surmised, I
was rendering myself a probable accessory and a certain suspect; but the
one thing I really cared about was my last glimpse of that patient face.
"Sorry, old man," was all the apology I could muster. "And if I ever get
a chance at the people who did it, you can count on me!"
With a sigh of complete exhaustion, I rose and looked about. All signs
of the crime had been obliterated from the garage. "I must be crazy!" I
thought, as the enormity of the thing rushed on me. "I wonder why I did
it? And I wonder whether I can forget it some day--maybe after twenty
years?"
As I opened the door to the garden the dim light was growing clearer. I
was late; the girl, coated and hatted, ready for flitting, was already
at the rendezvous. At sight of me in my leather togs she started
backward; then, resolutely controlled, she drew herself up and faced me
silently, her hands clutching at her furs, her lips a little apart.
"Won't you sit down?" I began lamely, indicating an iron bench. It was
all so different from the interview I had planned last night! "I want to
speak to you about your chauffeur, Miss Falconer.
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