Then I turned and went out.
"To Richfield," I told Warner, and on the way I thought, and
thought hard.
"Nina Carrington, Nina Carrington," the roar and rush of the
wheels seemed to sing the words. "Nina Carrington, N. C." And I
then knew, knew as surely as if I had seen the whole thing.
There had been an N. C. on the suit-case belonging to the woman
with the pitted face. How simple it all seemed. Mattie Bliss
had been Nina Carrington. It was she Warner had heard in the
library. It was something she had told Halsey that had taken him
frantically to Doctor Walker's office, and from there perhaps to
his death. If we could find the woman, we might find what had
become of Halsey.
We were almost at Richfield now, so I kept on. My mind was not
on my errand there now. It was back with Halsey on that
memorable night. What was it he had said to Louise, that had
sent her up to Sunnyside, half wild with fear for him? I made up
my mind, as the car drew up before the Tate cottage, that I would
see Louise if I had to break into the house at night.
Almost exactly the same scene as before greeted my eyes at
the cottage. Mrs. Tate, the baby-carriage in the path, the
children at the swing--all were the same.
She came forward to meet me, and I noticed that some of the
anxious lines had gone out of her face. She looked young, almost
pretty.
"I am glad you have come back," she said. "I think I will have
to be honest and give you back your money.
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