"I see what you have done. And now, will you please leave me with Jenny Prask?"
The smile was very easy to read now in Jenny's face. She could ask nothing better than to be left alone with Joan.
Martin hesitated.
"I think, Joan, that you ought to see Lady Splay before you talk to any one," he counselled gently.
"Is everybody going to give me orders in this house?" Joan retorted with a quiet, dangerous calm.
Martin Hillyard turned and ran swiftly up the stairs. There was but one thing to do. Lady Splay must be fetched down. But hurry as he might, he was not in time. For a few seconds Joan and Jenny Prask were alone in the hall, and all Jenny's composure left her on the instant. She stepped quickly over to Joan, and in a voice vibrating with hatred and passion, she hissed:
"But you'll have to say why you came back. You'll have to say who you came back to see. You'll have to say it publicly too—right there in court. It'll be in all the papers. Won't you like it, Miss Whitworth? Just fancy!"
Joan was staggered by the attack. The sheer hatred of Jenny bewildered her.
"In court?" she faltered. "What do you mean?"
"That Mrs. Croyle died of poison last night in her room," answered Jenny.