“And where are they now—the things that were in the trunk?”
“In the trunk?”
“That green box you pointed out to me in her room. You said her papers had been there; you seemed to imply that she had transferred them.”
“Oh, yes; they are not in the trunk,” said Miss Tita.
“May I ask if you have looked?”
“Yes, I have looked—for you.”
“How for me, dear Miss Tita? Do you mean you would have given them to me if you had found them?” I asked, almost trembling.
She delayed to reply and I waited. Suddenly she broke out, “I don’t know what I would do—what I wouldn’t!”
“Would you look again—somewhere else?”
She had spoken with a strange unexpected emotion, and she went on in the same tone: “I can’t—I can’t—while she lies there. It isn’t decent.”
“No, it isn’t decent,” I replied gravely. “Let t
