But he was resolved to use his best
skill to disarm her sophistication. His large voice was
modulated to kindliness as he spoke in a casual manner.
"I just sent for you to tell you that you're free."
Mary regarded the speaker with an impenetrable expression. Her
tones as she spoke were quite as matter-of-fact as his own had
been. In them was no wonder, no exultation.
"Then, I can go," she said, simply.
"Sure, you can go," Burke replied, amiably.
Without any delay, yet without any haste, Mary glanced toward
Gilder and Demarest, who were watching the scene closely. Her
eyes were somehow appraising, but altogether indifferent. Then,
she went toward the outer door of the office, still with that
almost lackadaisical air.
Burke waited rather impatiently until she had nearly reached the
door before he shot his bolt, with a fine assumption of
carelessness in the announcement.
"Garson has confessed!"
Mary, who readily enough had already guessed the essential
hypocrisy of all this play, turned and confronted the Inspector,
and answered without the least trace of fear, but with the
firmness of knowledge:
"Oh, no, he hasn't!"
Her attitude exasperated Burke.
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