take the first walk until you came back after the
river-bath?" continued Anne.

He repeated his account of the evening's events as he had first given
it, with hardly the variation of a word.

"Are you sure that you took two towels? Might it not be possible that
you took only one? For then the second, found at the end of the meadow
trail, might have been taken by the murderer."

"No; I took two. I remember it because I put first one in my pocket, and
then, with some difficulty, the other, and I spoke to Helen laughingly
about my left-handed awkwardness." It was the first time he had spoken
his wife's name, and his voice was very grave and sweet as he pronounced
it.

Poor Miss Teller broke down again. And Anne began to see her little
paper of questions through a blur. But the look of Heathcote's face
saved her. Why should he have anything more to bear? She went on quickly
with her inquiry.

"Was there much money in the purse?"

"I think not. She gave me almost all she had brought with her as soon as
we met."

"Is it a large river?"

"Rather deep; in breadth only a mill-stream."

Then there was a silence. It seemed as if they all felt how little there
was to work with, to hope for.

"Will you let Miss Teller draw on a sheet of paper the outline of your
left hand?" continued Anne.

He obeyed without comment.

"Now please place your hand in this position, and let her draw the
finger-tips." As she spoke, she extended her own left hand, with the
finger-tips touching the table, as if she was going to grasp something
which lay underneath.

But Heathcote drew back. A flush rose in his cheeks. "I will have
nothing to do with it," he said.

"Oh, Ward, when Anne asks you?" said Miss Teller, in distress.

"_I_ do not wish her to go to Timloesville," he said, with emphasis; "I
have been utterly against it from the first. It is a plan made without
reason, and directly against my feelings, my wishes, and my consent. It
is unnecessary. It will be useless. And, worse than this, it may bring
her into great trouble. Send as many detectives as you please, but do
not send her. It is the misfortune of your position and hers that at
such a moment you have no one to control you, no man, I mean, to whose
better judgment you would defer. My wishes are nothing to you; you
override them. You are, in fact, taking advantage of my helplessness."

He spoke to Miss Teller. But Anne, flushing a little at his tone,
answered him.

"