His
blue suit of serge was smeared with whitewash; her gown was a sight. She
felt for her hat instinctively, repinned it at hazard, looked at her
gloves, and began to realize what she had done.
"I--I couldn't help it," she faltered; "I couldn't leave Clarence in a
city of five m-million strangers--all alone--terrified out of his senses--
could I? I had rather--rather be thought--anything than be c-cruel to a
helpless animal."
Brown dared not trust himself to answer. She was too beautiful and his
emotion was too deep. So he bent over and attempted to dust his garments
with the flat of his hand.
"I am so sorry," she said in a low voice. "Are your clothes quite
ruined?"
"Oh, I don't mind," he protested happily, "I really don't mind a bit. If
you'll only let me help you corner that infern--that unfortunate cat I
shall be perfectly happy."
She said, with heightened color: "It is exceedingly nice of you to say
so.... I--I don't quite know--what do you think we had better do?"
"Suppose," he said, "you go into the basement, unlock the cellar door and
call. He can't bolt this way."
She nodded and entered the house. A few moments later he heard her
calling, so persuasively that it was all he could do not to run to her,
and why on earth that cat didn't he never could understand.
[Illustration]
XI
BETTY
_In Which the Remorseless and Inexorable Results of Psychical Research
Are Revealed to the Very Young_
At intervals for the next ten minutes her fresh, sweet, fascinating voice
came to him where he stood in the yard; then he heard it growing fainter,
more distant, receding; then silence.
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