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Updated: June 3, 2025
Lowney turned on more light, and a thrill went through us at the incongruity of that gay table and the tragedy so near it. As always at Vicky Van's parties, the appointments were dainty and elaborate. Flowers decorated the table; lace, silver, and glass were of finest quality; and in the centre was the contrivance known as a "Jack Horner Pie." "That was to be the surprise," said Mrs. Reeves.
A long mirror was in a Florentine gilt frame, and a chaise longue, by a reading table, bespoke hours of ease. Ruthlessly, Lowney pried into everything, ran his arm among the gowns hanging in the wardrobe, and looked into the carved chests. Again no clue. The perfect order everywhere, showed, perhaps, preparation for guests, but nothing indicated flight or hiding.
That child is scared to death, and is hiding in the attic or somewhere." "Suppose, Mrs. Reeves," said the coroner, "you go with Mr. Lowney, and look over the house again. Search the bedrooms and store-rooms." "I will," and Mrs. Reeves seemed to welcome an opportunity to help. She was a good-hearted woman, and a staunch friend of Vicky Van.
It was a grievous mischance that I let her escape last night, but I shall have another chance at her, I'm sure." "And then you'll arrest her," said Rhoda, with a snap of her thin lips. "I dare say. Lowney tells me the finger prints on the little knife with which Mr. Schuyler was killed are clear and unmistakable, but we have not yet found out whose they are." "And can you?" said Ruth, anxiously.
"It seems to me she must have been taken in and cared for by some one who loved her, that night she disappeared." "I think so, too," agreed Stone. "But I've been to see all her friends that I can find out about. I've called on a score of them, finding their addresses in her address book that Mr. Lowney gave me.
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