"Yes--the housekeeper's, it happened to be her evening out--why, he just naturally supposed Nora was Miss Omar." "Ah! then her name isn't Omar. What might it be?" "I'd rather not tell--if you don't mind." "But when Latimer found out she had the diamonds--he did find out?" "She confessed to him. Nora's not really so bad a girl as--" "Very interesting! But it doesn't happen to be Latimer's version. And you say Latimer wouldn't lie." I got pale--but the paleness was on the inside of me. Think I was going to flinch before a chump like Moriway, even if I had walked straight into his trap? "It isn't?" I exclaimed. "No. Latimer's note to Mrs. Kingdon said the diamonds were found in the bell-boy's jacket the thief had left behind him." "Well! It only shows what a bad habit lying is. Nora must have fibbed to me, for the pure pleasure of fibbing. I'll never dare to trust her again. Do you believe then that she didn't have anything to do with the hotel robbery? I do hope so. It's one less sin on her wicked head. It's hard, having such a girl in the family!" Oh, wasn't I grieved! He looked me straight in the eye. I looked at him. I was unutterably sad about that tough sister of mine, and I vow I looked holy then, though I never did before and may never again. "Well, I only saw her in the twilight," he said slowly, watching my face all the time. "You two sisters are certainly miraculously alike." The train was slowing down, and I got up with my basket. I stood right before him, my full face turned toward him. "Are we?" I asked simply. "Don't you think it's more the expression than anything else, and the voice? Nora's really much fairer than I am. Good-by." He watched me as I went out. I felt his eyes on the back of my jacket, and I was tempted to turn at the door and make a face at him. But I knew something better and safer than that. I waited till the train was just pulling out, and then, standing below his window, I motioned to him to raise it. He did. "I thought you were going to get out here," I called. "Are you sure you don't belong in Sing Sing, Mr. Moriway?" I can see his face yet, Mag, and every time I think of it, it makes me nearly die of laughing. He had actually been fooled another time. It was worth the trip up there, to make a guy of him once more. And whether it was or not, Mag, it was all I got, after all. For--would you believe Tom Dorgan would turn out such a sorehead? He's kicked up such a row ever since he got there, that it's the dark cell for him, and solitary confinement. Think of it--for Tom! I begged, I bluffed, I cried, I coaxed, but many's the Nance Olden that has played her game against the rules of Sing Sing, and lost. They wouldn't even let me leave the things for him, or give him a message from me. And back to the station I had to carry the basket, and all the schemes I had to make old Tom Dorgan grin.