She listened to him abstractedly, walked to the end of the corridor,
returned, and without looking up, said,--

"I suppose you know her?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"This woman. You have seen her?"

"Never, to my knowledge."

"And you are his friend! That's strange." She raised her eyes to his.
"Well," she continued impatiently, "who is she? and what is she? You
know that surely?"

"I know no more of her than what I have said," said Poindexter. "She is
a notorious woman."

The swift color came to Mrs. Tucker's face as if the epithet had been
applied to herself. "I suppose," she said in a dry voice, as if she
were asking a business question, but with an eye that showed her rising
anger,--"I suppose there is some law by which creatures of this kind can
be followed and brought to justice--some law that would keep innocent
people from suffering for their crimes?"

"I am afraid," said Poindexter, "that arresting her would hardly help
these people over in the tienda."

"I am not speaking of them," responded Mrs. Tucker, with a sudden