In her overwrought and harassed condition, the sophistry illuded her; she was sensible only of the menace his words distilled. She saw herself tricked and trapped, meshed in a web of damning circumstance; everything was against her--appearances, the hands of all men, the cruel accident that had placed the necklace in her keeping, even her parentage. For she was the daughter of a notorious thief, a man whose name was an international byword. Who would believe her protestations of innocence--presuming that the police should find her before she could reach either Staff or Miss Landis? "But," she faltered, white to her lips, "I can take it to her now--instantly--" Instinctively she clutched her handbag. The man's eyes appreciated the movement. His face was shadowed for a thought by the flying cloud of a sardonic smile. And the girl saw and read that smile. "Unless," she stammered, retreating from him a pace or two--"unless you--" He silenced her with a reassuring gesture. "You do misjudge me!" he said in a voice that fairly wept. Hope flamed in her eyes. "You mean--you can't mean--" Again he lifted his hand. "I mean that you misconstrue my motive. Far be it from me to deny that I am--what I am. We have ever been plain-spoken with one another. You told me what I was seven years ago, when you left me, took another name, disowned me and ..." His voice broke affectingly for an instant. "No matter," he resumed, with an obvious effort. "The past is past, and I am punished for all that I have ever done or ever may do, by the loss of my daughter's confidence and affection. It is my fault; I have no right to complain. But now ... Yes, I admit I tried to steal the necklace in the Park tonight. But I failed, and failing I did that which got you into trouble. Now I'm here to help you extricate yourself. Don't worry about the necklace--keep it, hide it where you will. I don't want and shan't touch, it on any conditions." "You mean I'm free to return it to Miss Landis?" she gasped, incredulous. "Just that." "Then--where can I find her?" He shrugged. "There's the rub. She's left town." She steadied herself with a hand on the table. "Still I can follow her...." "Yes--and must. That's what I've come to tell you and to help you do." "Where has she gone?" "To her country place in Connecticut, on the Sound shore." "How can I get there? By railroad?" Eleanor started toward the telephone. "Hold on!" he said sharply. "What are you going to do?" "Order a time-table--" "Useless," he commented curtly. "Every terminal in the city is already watched by detectives. They'd spot you in a twinkling. Your only salvation is to get to Miss Landis before they catch you."