her home any time now, however. We've located the trouble and got the
man under restraint. Good-night."

* * * * *




IX


Though the heat in the Pullman was intense the tall woman in the first
seat was heavily veiled. She had come out from the drawing room to allow
more freedom to her maid, who was packing a dressing-case and rolling up
steamer rugs. Her fellow travelers eyed her with curiosity. She was
doubtless some great and exclusive personage, for she had not appeared
in public, not even in the diner. She sank into the vacant seat with an
air of hopeless weariness, yet her restless hands never ceased their
groping, her slim fingers slipped in and out, in and out of the loop of
her long neck chain, or nervously twined one with another in endless
intertouch.

The long journey north was over at last. The weary days and nights of
hurried travel. Only a moment more and the familiar sights and sounds of
the great city would greet her once again. She was going home--to what?
Mrs. Marteen did not dare to picture the future. Pursued, as if by the
Furies themselves, she had been driven, madly, blind with suffering,
back to the scene of disaster--to know--to know--the worst, perhaps--but
to know!