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He looked at her hard before answering; then: "Ask Darrow!" he said. "Owen Owen!" Sophy Viner murmured. Anna stood looking from one to the other. It had become apparent to her in a flash that Owen's retort, though it startled Sophy, did not take her by surprise; and the discovery shot its light along dark distances of fear.
Now I suppose I'll have to go without a new fur coat this winter." Hannah smiled agreeably. "Well, Julia, it's better for you to do without a new fur coat this winter than for me to do without any." The Clint Darrow of her girlhood dreams, grown rather paunchy and mottled now, and with the curling black hair but a sparse grizzled fringe, had belied Horace Winter's contemptuous opinion.
"But I don't want you to explain anything to Owen." "You haven't yet told me what you do want." She hesitated, conscious of the difficulty of justifying her request; then: "I want you to speak to Sophy," she said. Darrow broke into an incredulous laugh. "Considering what my previous attempts have resulted in !" She raised her eyes quickly.
It was easy enough to bring Maitland and Darrow together. "My friend is himself much interested in the game; he heard of your superb ground; may he be permitted to examine it closely?" Darrow was all attention. He would be delighted to show it. Suppose they make a practical test of it by playing a game.
"Well, Miss Darrow," he began at once, "at last your detective has got a clue not much of a one but still a clue. I can pick the man for whom we are looking from among a million of his fellows if I am ever fortunate enough to get the chance." He readily acceded to this request, and began by telling them the experiences which I have just narrated.
"You have heard his?" "Yes. It needs filling in." "When may I see him?" "That's for Dr. Trendon to say. He came to us almost dead. I'll find out." The surgeon reported Slade much better, but all a-quiver with excitement. "Hate to put the strain on him," said he. "But he'll be in a fever till he gets this thing off his mind. Send Mr. Darrow to him."
Darrow probably knows his Bible as well as I do," Miss Painter calmly rejoined; adding a moment later, without the least perceptible change of voice or expression: "I suppose you've heard that Gisele de Folembray's husband accuses her of being mixed up with the Duc d'Arcachon in that business of trying to sell a lot of imitation pearls to Mrs. Homer Pond, the Chicago woman the Duke's engaged to?
"It's nothing but a skin door," replied the oil man. "But it's at the far side fronting that old mud-slinger. Did you ever see the beat of that? That stone must have weighed fifty pounds." But Jack Darrow noticed a certain fact. That was that the debris from the spouter was not shot so high as at first. Therefore, it was not being spread abroad so far.
She stopped short and faced him "And you think I may let you now?" Darrow felt the blood in his cheek. He could not understand her attitude if indeed she had consciously taken one, and her changes of tone did not merely reflect the involuntary alternations of her mood. It humbled him to perceive once more how little he had to guide him in his judgment of her.
This circuit brought them back to the park gates not long before sunset, and as Anna wished to stop at the lodge for news of the injured child Darrow left her there with Effie and walked on alone to the house. He had the impression that she was slightly surprised at his not waiting for her; but his inner restlessness vented itself in an intense desire for bodily movement.
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