I should see her again. I tried to say something
of this, but my tongue faltered and refused to shape the words.
She left me, presently, and for an hour or more I sat there and
looked, in every aspect, at the theory she had suggested. Certainly,
there was nothing to disprove it; and yet, as she had said, it merely
served to deepen the mystery. Who were these people, I asked myself
again, who dared to play so bold and desperate a game? The
illegitimate daughter might, of course, impersonate Miss Holladay; but
who was the elder woman? Her mother? Then the liaison must have taken
place in France--her accent was not to be mistaken; but in France Mr.
Holladay had been always with his wife. Besides, the younger woman
spoke English perfectly. True, she had said only a few words--the
hoarseness might have been affected to conceal a difference in
voice--but how explain the elder woman's resemblance to Hiram
Holladay's daughter? Could they both be illegitimate? But that was
nonsense, for Mrs. Holladay had taken her into her life, had loved
her----
And Martigny? Who was he? What was his connection with these women?
That the crime had been carefully planned I could not doubt; and it
had been carried out with surprising skill. There had been no nervous
halting at the supreme moments, no hesitation nor drawing back;
instead, a coolness of execution almost fiendish, arguing a hardened
and practiced hand.
Pages:
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163