"I understand," smiled Kendrick. "I think none the less of you for what you have done. And who knows? It may turn out to have been the wisest course after all."
Ah, would it? Mr. Magee walked to the window, pondering on the odd tangle of events that had not yet been completely straightened put. Certainly her eyes were an honest blue as well as a beautiful—but who was she? Where was she? The great figure of Mrs. Norton stirred restlessly near at hand; the puffed lids of her eyes opened.
"Mr. Magee," she said, when she had made out his figure by the window, "you've been a true friend, as I might say, to a couple of mad females who ought to have been at home by their own firesides, and I'm going to ask one more favor of you. Find out when the next train goes to Reuton, and see that I'm at the station an hour or two before it pulls out."
"I'll do that, Mrs. Norton," smiled Magee. "By the way, is Norton the name?"
"Yes," answered the woman, "that's my name. Of course, it ain't hers. I can't tell that."
