However, I
struggled through, painting the affair as well as I could, but without
daring to propose her cooperation. Her wide-open eyes on my face gave
me a thrill of apprehension I could not analyze.
"That 's the whole story," I ended, rather lamely.
"What do you think of it?"
"I--I hardly know," with slow hesitation. "It is very strange. Tell
me the young man's name again."
"Henley--Philip Henley."
"And the town?"
"Carrollton, Alabama."
"And he is in prison for crime, you say--what crime?"
"Forgery, a fourteen-year sentence."
"Did they tell you when he was sent there?"
"No; I believe not."
"And his wife has disappeared? They can find no trace of her?"
"So both men assured me."
"And this one named Neale--are you certain he is an administrator?"
"Yes, I was shown a certified copy of the will; everything seemed to be
exactly as represented."
She pressed one hand to her forehead, her eyes on the ground. I
watched her, an unasked question trembling on my lips. Suddenly she
looked up again, her cheeks flushed.
"You were going to suggest that I go with you, were you not?" she asked
swiftly. "That I play the wife's part? Why did n't you ask it?"
"Because I lacked courage," I replied frankly, yet leaning eagerly
toward her.
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