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his entrance. I could imagine that his matter-of-fact, commercial mind was floundering in the effort to understand the remarkable young woman before him.
Madelyn changed her seat to one almost directly opposite her nervous client. She was about to speak when she noted his eyes turned questioningly in my direction.
"This is my friend, Miss Noraker, Mr. Van Sutton," she announced formally. "I believe you have met before."
Mr. Van Sutton polished his glasses with his handkerchief as he responded somewhat dubiously. "Miss Noraker is a—a reporter, I believe? Don't you think, Miss Mack, that our conversation should be, er—private?"
I had already risen when Madelyn motioned to me to pause. "Miss Noraker is not here in her newspaper capacity. She is a personal friend who has accompanied me in so many of my cases that I look upon her almost as a lieutenant. You can rest assured that nothing which you or I would wish kept silent will be published!"
Mr. Van Sutton's face cleared, and he bowed to me as if in apology. "Very well, Miss Mack. I am sure I can rely upon your discretion perfectly."
I resumed my chair at a sign from Madelyn, and our visitor stared out into the grey dusk, with the