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Updated: June 21, 2025
"Randolph Schuyler was an important citizen," he said, "and his murderer must be apprehended if possible. Do all you can, Calhoun, for humanity's sake and the law's. Take all the time you want to, I'll see to your important business." So, though I went downtown every morning, I came back at noon or soon after and plunged afresh into the work of finding Vicky Van.
Vicky, who hates the Gwynnes, with the exception of Lord Zeal, the heir, besides believing in Jack as you would in Solomon, has steadily upheld him; and she is a powerful ally not only one of the most distinguished of the political women, but still turns heads when she chooses, and her game is generally in the cabinet preserves, when it is not in the diplomatic. I must run.
"At least, I'm not depending entirely on that. If luck comes my way, so much the better. And now, please let me see the notes Miss Van Allen has written." None was available, however, except the one to Ruth Schuyler. For the one to Randolph Schuyler was in Lowney's possession, and the one I had had from Vicky, and which was even then in my pocket, I had no intention of showing.
Huddled she lay. At this aching moment the one thing that the world held worth her having seemed to be the approbation of this butterfly child. For Vicky's happiness was specific. Nuptial bliss lay, as it were, crystallised within it. There are moments in one's life when love itself seems lust, and safety the only holy thing. Vicky, tearing at her heart, had turned her head.
It was perhaps, a possibility, but I didn't see how any intruder could do all that, without being seen by the waiters. Unless, perchance, the waiters had been bribed to silence. And that, in the face of Luigi's earnest, and convincing testimony, I could not believe. It was a fantastic theory, evolved in the brain of Garrison, for the purpose of diverting suspicion from Vicky Van.
"Oh, won't that be too fine for anything!" exclaimed the younger sergeant. "Then I'll not have to leave Vicky here, after all." Vic, upon hearing her name called, left her rug at my feet and placed her nose on Henry's knee, and the boy stroked and patted her in his usual affectionate manner. "Then you have been dreading to leave the doggie?" I asked.
"It looks to me as if Vicky was leaving this morning I mean as if she had expected to go away to-day, and so had no stuff on hand to spoil." "Perhaps this is her market day." "No; it's queer, that's what it is. You know sometimes Vicky does go away for days at a time." "Hasn't she a right to?" "Of course she has. I'm thinking it out. Where does she go? And wherever it is, that's where she is now!"
Sanchia's hand at the kettle was steady, but her eyes flickered before they took the veil. "Tell me about Vicky. What did she say of me?" Chevenix came to the tea-table and stood by her. "I think Vicky's all right. I do indeed. It seems to me she'd give her ears to see you simple ears. Sinclair, you'll find, is the trouble. He's the usual airy kind of ass.
Softly, she raised the cover, she abstracted the book, and with noiseless touch was replacing the cover, when she threw back her head, as if she sensed our presence. I had made no move, nor had I heard a breath of sound from Stone, but Vicky knew some one was present. I knew that by her startled movement.
"Here's a place, Vicky Van, a nice cosy corner, 'tween Jim and me. Come on, Ladygirl." "No, thanks, everybody. I'm going to cut in at this table. May I? Am I a nuisance?" "A Vicky-nuisance! They ain't no such animal!" and Bailey Mason rose to give her his chair. "No," said she, "I want you to stay, Mr. Mason. 'Cause why, I want to play wiz you.
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