Alice Duer Miller

“ Lydia suddenly stamped her foot.
"She's a fool if she does!" she said, biting into her words.
So this young man went in for being a woman tamer, did he?—the mistress downstairs ordered to be civil and the maid upstairs ordered to confess. If she had time, she thought, it would amuse her to show him that things did not run so smoothly as that. She almost wished that Evans wouldn't confess. It would be worth losing her jewels to see his face when he came down to announce his failure.
Steps overhead, the door opened, a voice called, "Sheriff, get your men up here, will you?" ”

“ The sheriff did, and jumping in he murmured as they drove down the road: "She is all that. She's easy to look at all right. She's handsome, and yet not—not what I should call womanly. Look out at the turn. There's a hole as you get into the main road."
"Yes, I know about it," said O'Bannon. ”

“ O'Bannon replied with some irritation. "My duty is to present the case against her for the state. I'm telling what Miss Thorne can do if she feels that there are extenuating circumstances; if, for instance, she thinks that she herself has been careless about her valuables."
"She will, I'm sure," said Miss Bennett with more conviction than she felt, "because, between you and me, Mr. O'Bannon, she is careless. She lost a beautiful little bracelet the other—but when you're as young and lovely and rich as she is——"
She was interrupted by the district attorney's rather curt good-by. ”

“ Lydia shook her head.
"I never see how servants spend their wages anyhow," she said. "But what makes me feel quite sure it isn't Evans is that I'm sure she would have confessed to me when I questioned her. Instead of that she's been packing my things for me just as usual."
O'Bannon cut the interview short by announcing that he'd see the sheriff. Lydia had expected—"dreaded" was her own word—that he would say something about the incidents of their last meeting. But he didn't. He left the room, saying as he went: "You'll wait here until I've had a talk with the girl." ”

“ She gave O'Bannon a pretty little sketch of a smile. She thought his position a great one, and his age extreme—anyone over thirty was ancient in her eyes. She was profoundly grateful to him, for he had given her fiancé a position on the police force and made their marriage a possibility at least.
"How are things, Alma?" he said.
"Simply wonderful, thanks to you, Mr. O'Bannon," she answered.
He went upstairs thinking kindly of all gentle blond women. In the office he found his assistant, Foster, the son of the local high-school teacher, a keen-minded ambitious boy of twenty-two. ”

“ All my jewels were stolen last night. He seemed to think you might be able to do something about it." Her tone indicated that she did not share the sheriff's optimism. Miss Bennett, with a long habit of counteracting Lydia's manners, broke in.
"So kind of you to come yourself, Mr. O'Bannon."
"It's my job to come."
"Yes, of course. I think I know your mother." She was very cordial, partly because she felt something hostile in the air, partly because she thought him an attractive-looking young man. "She's so helpful in the village improvement, only we're all just a little afraid of her. ”

“ When, a few minutes later, the district attorney came down he found Miss Bennett alone. He looked about quickly.
"Where's Miss Thorne?" he said.
Miss Bennett had not wanted Lydia to go—she had urged her not to. What difference did the Emmonses make in comparison with the jewels? But now she sprang to her defense.
"She was forced to go. She had a train to catch—a long-standing engagement. She was so sorry. She left all sorts of messages." This was not, strictly speaking, true.
O'Bannon smiled slightly.
"She does not seem to take much interest in the recovery of her jewels," he said. ”

“ He's a great feller for getting folks to confess." Then with natural courtesy he turned to Lydia. "I was just saying to your friend, Miss Thorne, that O'Bannon's great on getting confessions."
"Really?" said Lydia. "I wonder why."
A Paramount Picture Manslaughter
O'BANNON BEGINS HIS INVESTIGATION OF THE THEFT.
"Well," said the sheriff, ignoring the note of doubt in her wonder, "most criminals want to confess. It's a lonely thing—to have a secret and the whole world against you. He plays on that. And between you and I, Miss Thorne, there's some of this so-called psychology in it. ”