Preposterous! I tried to reason calmly; to find an opening in the net.
Yet, how complete it was! The only point we had gained, so far, was
that the mysterious visitor had asked for Mr. Holladay, not for her
father--and what an infinitesimal point it was! Supposing there had
been a quarrel, an estrangement, would not she naturally have used
those very words? After all, did not the black eyes, the full lips,
the deep-colored cheeks bespeak a strong and virile temperament, depth
of emotion, capacity for swift and violent anger? But what cause could
there be for a quarrel so bitter, so fierce, that it should lead to
such a tragedy? What cause? And then, suddenly, a wave of light broke
in upon me. There could be only one--yes, but there _could_ be one!
Capacity for emotion meant capacity for passion. If she had a lover,
if she had clung to him despite her father! I knew his reputation for
severity, for cold and relentless condemnation. Here was an
explanation, certainly!