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As we approached, I could see that she was much more pale than
usual. Evidently her anxiety for Warrington was thoroughly
genuine. The slanderous letter had not shaken her faith in him,
yet.
She had left her car and was walking back along the road with us
toward the broken fence. Garrick had been talking to her earnestly
and now, having introduced her to Dr. Mead, the doctor and he
decided to climb down to inspect the wrecked car itself in the
ravine below.
Miss Winslow cast a quick look from the broken fence down at the
torn and twisted wreckage of the car and gave a suppressed little
cry and shudder.
"How is Mortimer?" she asked of me eagerly, for I had agreed to
stay with her while the others went down the slope. "I mean how is
he really? Is he likely to be better soon, as Mr. Garrick said
over the telephone?" she appealed.
"Surely--absolutely," I assured her, knowing that if Garrick had
said that he had meant it. "Miss Winslow, believe me, neither Mr.
Garrick nor Dr.


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