Instead of answering in kind, Florence, with
her eyes bearing upon his face, said gravely:
"I asked you here to speak of something else--a matter we are all
interested in, though I am far more interested than the others. I want to
know--we all want to know--what has become of Murray Davenport."
Turl's face blenched ever so little, but he made no other sign of being
startled. For some seconds he regarded Florence with a steady inquiry;
then his questioning gaze passed to Edna's face and Larcher's, but
finally returned to hers.
"Why do you ask me?" he said, quietly. "What have I to do with Murray
Davenport?"
Florence turned to Larcher, who thereupon put in, almost apologetically:
"You were in correspondence with him before his disappearance, for
one thing."
"Oh, was I?"
"Yes. He showed me a letter signed by you, in your handwriting. It was
about a meeting you were to have with him."
Turl pondered, till Florence resumed the attack.
"We don't pretend to know where that particular meeting occurred. But we
do know that you visited the last place Murray Davenport was traced to in
New York. We have a great deal of evidence connecting you with him about
the time of his disappearance. We have so much that there would be no use
in your denying that you had some part in his affairs."
She paused, to give him a chance to speak. But he only gazed at her with
a thoughtful, regretful perplexity. So she went on:
"We don't say--yet--whether that part was friendly,
indifferent,--or evil.
Pages:
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176