"No," she answered slowly, still watching him carefully, then
adding hastily: "Of course, you know, no one who tries to do
anything is absolutely without enemies, though."
"I mean," repeated Craig, carefully noting a certain hesitation in
her tone, "was there any one who, for reasons best known to
himself, might have murdered him in a way peculiarly likely under
the circumstances, say, with a dagger?"
Inez flashed a quick glance at Kennedy, as if to inquire just how
much or how little he really knew. I got the impression from it,
at least, that she was holding back some suspicion for a reason
that perhaps she would not even have admitted to herself.
I saw that Norton was also following the line of Kennedy's
questioning keenly, though he said nothing.
Before Kennedy could take up the lead again, her maid, Juanita, a
very pretty girl of Spanish and Indian descent, entered softly.
"Mr. Lockwood," she whispered, but not so low that we could not
hear.
"Won't you ask him to come in, Nita?" she replied.
A moment later a young man pushed open the door--a tall, clean-cut
young fellow, whose face bore the tan of a sun much stronger than
any about New York. As I took his appraisal, I found him
unmistakably of the type of American soldier of fortune who has
been carried by the wander-spirit down among the romantic
republics to the south of our own.
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