He heard McDonald open and close the front door. Then the widow entered,
followed by a young man with an abundance of dark hair curling over a
low forehead and shading eyes a trifle too deep set. But at first Garth
saw only the widow, and he marveled that one so young and lovely in an
etherial sense should have been mated with the elderly invalid upstairs.
As he looked it suddenly occurred to him that Reed, since he had lost
Taylor as a friend, might crave more than friendship from the widow.

She sank on a divan. Even in the shadows her heavy black hair and the
dark grey traveling dress she wore heightened the weary pallor of her
face. Had her eyes held tears they would have been easier to meet, for
the shock was there, dry and unrelieved.

"It is dreadful to come home this way," she said, "dreadful! I had never
dreamed of his doing such a thing."

"It is by no means certain," Garth said gently, "that he killed himself.
There is a curious situation in this house. McDonald's daughter, the
housekeeper, for instance, has not been seen since a short time before
the crime."

Her lips twitched a little. He fancied hope in her eyes.

"If I could only cry!" she said. "At any rate that would be better for
his memory, wouldn't it? You suspect this woman?"

"If you are able," Garth said, "I would like you to tell me something
about her."

"I have never seen her," she answered. "She came after I went west.
McDonald had a good deal of influence over Mr. Taylor, and I never quite
trusted him. There's no use. You might as well know the truth about Mr.
Taylor and me. You've probably heard. We were never quite happy. He was
so much older. We never quite belonged to each other. But that is all.
It isn't true all this gossip that I went west for a divorce, and I
don't believe he was the man to kill himself. If there has been a crime
against him I want the world to know it. I want his memory clean."

Quickly the man Reed touched her shoulder. For the first time since
entering the room he spoke. His voice possessed a peculiar, aggressive
resonance.

"Helen, you shouldn't take this man's suspicion that he was murdered too
seriously."

Garth motioned him to silence.

"At such a time," he said to Mrs. Taylor, "I dislike to bother you, but
I'd like to ask one or two questions. Your mother? Her mind?"

He caught a flash of pain across her white face.

"She has always been peculiar," she answered, "but she isn't out of her
hea