now. No, come back here—tell me more—tell me all about my child—my baby. Where is she, where is she, I say! Where is she now?”
And he told her what he had done.
“Sent her off alone—to a terrible place! I said you never loved her! I knew you hated her”
“Listen, mother—don’t misjudge me. It was necessary—the authorities wouldn’t let me bring her home”
Mrs. Selden sat straight up in bed. Still handsome, she looked like some avenging goddess. Her white hair had become disordered, her dark eyes shone like coals of fire, and her sharp features seemed sharper still in her wild frenzy.
“The authorities! What have they to say about my child?”
In vain Barham tried to make her understand. He felt it would be best to get the whole scene over at once—and perhaps firmness was the wisest course.
Claudine stood by, now adjusting a pillow, now offering the salts bottle, and now breaking down herself.
“Try to understand, Mother,” Barham said, gently, but holding her by both hands and gazing into her eyes. “Madeleine has been killed—murdered. We have to do many things in that case, that we would not in case of an ordinary death. We have”
“Where was she?” she said. “Where did this happen? At Emmy Gardner’s?”
“No; Mother, have you any idea where Madeleine started out for to-night?”
“No; but she said she was going somewhere else before she went to Emmy Gardner’s.”
“Yes, she did. She went to a house in Washington Square.”
“Washington Square! Who in the world lives there?”
