inclined to talk, Richard too sat silent and thoughtful.
Added to her interest in the dead girl, the evident suspicions entertained against Richard had preyed upon Penelope's mind. While she never doubted Richard's innocence in the affair, still ugly thoughts concerning his careless nature, and the recalled rumors of affairs with actresses, of more or less renown, which the newspapers darkly hinted at, almost set her wild. Could it be possible that he had known the girl, or ever seen her before they found her dead?
She recalled his excitement when he leaned down and for the first time saw the face of the girl as she sat on the bench. The officer had laid great stress on Dick's excited manner, and to Penelope, as she looked back, it seemed suggestive of more than he had acknowledged.
"And I love him, I love him," she cried to herself during the long ride to the cemetery,
