en her husband interrupted
angrily--

"Nor any apologies to him from you, Naomi. Carroll has placed himself
beyond the pale by what he has done in having the impertinence to foist
himself upon us as a social equal. Now, Carroll--are you ready with your
little catechism?"

"Yes." The detective's voice was quite calm. "I'm quite ready."

"Well--ask." Lawrence paused. "You _did_ come here to inquire about
Warren, didn't you?"

Carroll could not forbear a dig: "I trust that you are not putting it
upon me to deny your statement to that effect."

"I don't give a damn what you deny or affirm."

"Good! Then we know all about each other, don't we. You know that I am a
detective in search of information and I know absolutely what you are!"
That dart went home--Lawrence squirmed. "So I'll come right to the point.
Is it not a fact that you were in this city at the hour Roland Warren is
supposed to have been killed?"

He heard a surprised gasp from Naomi and saw that her face had blanched
and that she was leaning forward with eyes wide and hands clutching the
arms of the chair in which she had seated herself.

Lawrence leered. "As the kids would say, Carroll--that's for me to know
and for you--super-detective that you are--to find out."

Carroll was more at ease now. Lawrence's sneering aggressiveness brought
him into his own element and he was hitting straight from the shoulder:
refusing pointblank to mince matters.

"I fancy I can," he returned calmly. "And now: is it not a fact that you
despised Warren even though you pretended to be his friend?"

"That, too, is my business, Carroll. Do you think I'm going to feed
pap to you?"

Carroll reflected carefully for a moment. Then suddenly his voice
crackled across the room--"You know, of course, that you are suspected of
Warren's murder?"

Silence! Then a forced, sickly grin creased Lawrence's lips--but his
figure slumped, almost cringed. From Naomi came a choked gasp--

"Mr. Carroll! Not Gerald--"

Carroll paid no heed to the woman. He sat back in his chair, eyes never
for one moment leaving Lawrence's pallid face. Nor did Carroll speak
again--he waited. It was Lawrence who broke the silence--

"Is--this--what you--detectives--call the third degree?"

"It is not. Now get this straight, Lawrence--I came here to find out
what you know about Warren and the circumstances surrounding his death. I
wanted to be decent about the thing--to cause you no embarrassment if I