o my mother's rooms I heard the dining-room door open.
I looked back and saw Tufnell come out and go upstairs, but he did not
see me. Then I reached my mother's rooms."

She was silent so long that Merrington thought she had finished her
story. "And what about your brooch--the brooch which you dropped in the
room. When did you get that again?"

"I did not miss it until some time after I had returned downstairs. I
wondered at first where I had dropped it. I then remembered the hand on
my throat, which must have unloosened the brooch and caused it to fall.
I knew it was necessary for me to recover it so it would not be known
that I had been in the room. The house was very quiet then, and the hall
was empty, though I could hear the murmur of voices in the library, so I
walked along the hall and ran upstairs. The door of the bedroom was
partly open, and by the light within I could see that the room was
empty--except for _her_. I went into the room. The first thing I saw was
my little brooch shining on the carpet, close by the bedside, near where
I had been standing when the hand clutched at my throat. I picked it up
and ran downstairs."

"Is that the whole of your story?"

She considered for a moment. "Yes, I think that I have told you
everything."

"What took you to Mrs. Heredith's room in the first place?"

"I--I wanted to see her."

"For what purpose? If you want me to help you, you had better be frank."

"I wished to see the girl whom Mr. Phil had married." She brought out
the answer hesitatingly, but the colour which flooded her thin white
cheeks showed that she was aware of the implication of the admission.

But Merrington was impervious to the finer feelings of the heart. He
disbelieved her story from beginning to end, and was of the opinion that
she was trying to hoax him with a concoction as crude as the vain
imaginings of melodrama or the cinema. It was more with the intention of
trapping her into a contradiction than of eliciting anything of
importance that he continued his questions.

"You say that you heard a noise at the window after the shot was fired.
What did you imagine it to be?"

"I was too nervous at the time to think anything about it, but since I
have thought that it must have been someone getting out of the window."

"Did you hear the window being opened?"

"No; I heard nothing but the rustle, as I told you. But it may have been
the wind, or my fear."

"Did you catch a glimpse of the