"Who was she?"
"The tenant doesn't know."
"Did he see her?"
"No. He remembers hearing a voice on the other side of the door to the hall. He didn't see any one, he says, and it is quite likely. When I asked him if he overheard anything, he replied that he could catch only a word here and there. There was one sentence he caught as he closed his own door."
"And that was—?"
"Rather loudly, the woman said: 'Give her up, Vail. Can't you see she really doesn't love you—never did—never could?'"
Leslie paused to watch the effect of the sentence on us. I, too, studied Kennedy's face.
"Did she leave soon?" asked Craig.
Leslie shook his head. "I don't know. The tenant left and that was all I heard."
"Well, Wilford was not dead then, we know," considered Craig. "Could she have been there when he died? Of course you don't know."