CHAPTER FIFTEENTen Thousand
There was a pearly haze on the river this afternoon, and a rosy and amethyst light hung over the wooded banks towards Nyack like a premature sunset. The sky above the Coldfield house was filmed with cloud. A pleasant place to live, thought Gamadge as he turned into the driveway, but only if one was moderately happy.
Agnes greeted him at the door with a broad smile. “Mrs. Glendon’s friend!”
“Yes, and I’ve come on another errand for her.”
“Indeed we’ll all be glad to do anything. There’s not a soul at home, sir.”
“Well, we don’t need them. First of all,” said Gamadge, taking a clean five-dollar bill out of his wallet, “Mrs. Coldfield wants you to have this for your trouble about her luggage.”
“The nurse did most of it, sir. How is Mrs. Glendon, sir?”
“Perfe
