Then, with a quick gathering of her skirts, she turned and almost
fled from the room.

She had scarcely closed the door before Garrick was telephoning
anxiously all over the city in order to get in touch with
Warrington himself.

"I'm not going to tell him too much about her visit," he remarked,
with a pleased smile at the outcome of the interview, though his
face clouded as his eye fell again on the blackmailing letter,
lying before him. "It might make him think too highly of himself.
Besides, I want to see, too, whether he has told us the whole
truth about the affair that night."

Somehow or other it seemed impossible to find Warrington in any of
his usual haunts, either at his office or at his club.

Garrick had given it up, almost, as a bad job, when, half an hour
later, Warrington himself burst in on us, apparently expecting
more news about his car.

Instead, Garrick handed him the letter.

"Say," he demanded as he ran through it with puckered face, then
slapped it down on the table before Guy, in a high state of
excitement, "what do you make of that?"

He looked from one to the other of us blankly.

"Isn't it bad enough to lose a car without being slandered about