O'Higgins was all that the doctor had imagined a detective to be: a bulky policeman in civilian clothes. " Prudence shrugged. ’ ‘And now we know also who is the prétendant, Mademoiselle Charvill. Pottiswick’s daughter found her tongue. And I've already told you the accident was not Jack's fault. The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally. Ruth obeyed, not willingly, but because there was something hypnotic in the authoritative tone. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. The Jacobite IV. Well, it had to happen somewhen. They chatted pleasantly as he drove around the neighborhood for a half an hour, then stopped by the Diedermayer house.
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