silent blessing what kindness he had shown this old man that he was so welcome here, but he could not ask. He hoped profoundly it was not simply the old man's nature that was so blithely giving, and he was glad he could not put it to the test. Instead he accepted the hospitality and sat talking with him for well over an hour until the doctor returned. Actually in that space he learned from him almost all he wished to know. Phyllis Dexter had been a very pretty woman with soft honey-brown hair and golden brown eyes, a gentle manner and a nice wit. Opinion in the town had been violently divided about her innocence or guilt. The police had felt her guilty, as had the mayor and many of the gentry. The doctor and the parson had taken her side, so had the innkeeper, who had had more than enough of Adam Dexter's temper and sullen complaints. Wraggs was emphatic that Monk himself had pursued his enquiries night and day, bullying, exhorting, pleading with witnesses, driving himself to exhaustion, sitting up into the small hours of the morning poring over the statements and the evidence till his eyes were red.
"She owes 'er life to you, Mr. Monk, and no mistake," Wraggs said with wide eyes. "A rare fighter you were. No woman, nor man neither, ever had a better champion in their cause, I'll swear to that on my Bible oath, I will."
"Where did she go to, Mr. Wraggs, when she left here?"
"Ah, that she didn't tell no one, poor soul!" Wraggs shook his head. "An' who can blame 'er, I ask you, after what some folk said."
Monk's heart sank. After the hope, the warmth of Wraggs's welcome and the sudden sight of some better part of himself, it had all slipped away again.
"You've no idea?" He was horrified to hear a catch in his voice.
"No sir, none at all." Wraggs peered at him with anxiety and sorrow in his old eyes. "Thanked you with tears, she did, an' then just packed 'er things and went. Funny, you know, but I thought as you knew where she'd gone, 'cause I 'ad a feeling as you 'elped her go! But there, I suppose I must a' bin wrong."
"France - the desk sergeant in the police station said he thought it was France."
"Well I shouldn't wonder." Wraggs nodded his head. "Poor lady would want to be out o' England, now wouldn't she, after all what folks said about 'er!"
"If she went south, who would know where she was?" Monk said reasonably. "She would take a new name and be lost in the crowd."
"Ah no sir, not hardly. Not with the pictures of her in the newspapers! An"andsome as she was, people'd soon see the likeness. No, better she go abroad. And I for one hopes she's found a place for 'erself."
"Pictures?"
"Yes sir - all in the illustrated news they was. Here, don't you remember? I'll get it for you. We kept them all." And without waiting for Monk he scrambled to his feet and went over to the desk in the corner. He rummaged around for several minutes, then came back proudly holding a piece of paper which he put in front of Monk.
It was a clear picture of a remarkably pretty woman of perhaps twenty-five or twenty-six, with wide eyes and a long, delicate face. Seeing it he remembered her quite clearly. Emotion came back: pity, some admiration, anger at the pain she had endured and at people's ignorance and refusal to understand it, determination that he would see her acquitted, intense relief when he had succeeded, and a quiet happiness. But nothing more; no love, no despair - no haunting, persistent memory.
Chapter 8
By June 15 there was a bare week to go before the trial commenced and the newspapers had again taken up the subject. There was much speculation as to what would be revealed, surprise witnesses for the defense, for the prosecution, revelations about character. Thaddeus Carlyon had been a hero, and his murder in such circumstances shocked people profoundly. There must be some explanation which would provide an answer and restore the balance of their beliefs.
Hester dined again at the Carlyon house, not because she was considered a close enough friend of the family to be welcome even at such a time, but because it was she who had recommended Oliver Rathbone, and they all now wished to know something more about him and what