I looked occasionally at the young girl, who had laid her hat on the table, allowing the rich coils of dazzling hair to assert their independence.

Her dark eyes were bent over her work as her fingers deftly pushed the needle in and out of the brown linen she worked on.
"Mr.Griggs," she began at last without looking up, "did you know Mr.
Isaacs was going out last night to kill that horrid thing ?" I had expected the question for some time.
"Yes; he told me about midnight, when he started." "Then why did you let him go ?" she asked, looking suddenly at me, and knitting her dark eyebrows rather fiercely.
"I do not think I could have prevented him.

I do not think anybody could prevent him from doing anything he had made up his mind to.

I nearly quarrelled with him, as it was." "I am sure I could have stopped him, if I had been you," she said innocently.
"I have not the least doubt that you could.

Unfortunately, however, you were not available at the time, or I would have suggested it to you." "I wish I had known," she went on, plunging deeper and deeper.