"We liked her, all of us. She was not like Mrs. Curtis."
I wanted to say that she was not like anybody in the world. Instead—"She escaped with some bruises," I said.
She glanced at my arm. "You were on the train?"
"Yes."
She waited for more questions, but none coming, she went to the door. Then she closed it softly and came back.
"Mrs. Curtis is dead? You are sure of it?" she asked.
"She was killed instantly, I believe. The body was not recovered. But I have reasons for believing that Mr. Sullivan is living."
"I knew it," she said. "I—I think he was here the night before last. That is why I went to the tower room. I believe he would kill me if he could." As nearly as her round and comely face could express it, Jennie's expression was tragic at that moment. I made a quick resolution, and acted on it at once.
"You are not entirely frank with me, Jennie,"
