Page:Burton Stevenson--The marathon mystery.djvu/316

288 “Why did you take the clippings, Miss Croydon?” asked Godfrey after a moment.

“From what you read of them, I suspected how vitally they concerned my sister. That was a secret, I felt, which must be kept at any hazard. It was done without consideration, on the spur of the moment, or I should never have had the courage to do it at all.”

“And why did you hide them under the carpet?”

She laughed outright—the load was lifted—she was fast becoming her usual self.

“I had a wild idea that you were going to search me. I saw that loose place in the carpet the instant I arose with the clippings in my hand. Once I had put them there, I had no chance at all to get them again.”

Godfrey nodded.

“You tried to get them the day after the inquest, didn’t you?”

“Yes; but the janitor was so afraid of me that he wouldn’t even let me go upstairs.”

“And there weren’t any papers?”

“No; that was a lie. I saw I must invent one—that I must offer some explanation of my presence there.”

“Did Tremaine keep his promise?”

“Not to bother my sister? Yes; he mentioned it again only to assure me that the past was dead—that he would never revive it.”

“But how could you admit his presence here?”

“How could we prevent it? It was Mr. Delroy