"Mrs. Death and her little girl, sir. She's half distracted, and tried to force her way in."
"We've seen what we came to see," said Inspector Robson, "and no person must be admitted into the house. You will keep in the Square to-night, Applebee. I'll put another man on your beat."
"Very good, sir."
The moment they emerged into the Square Gracie ran to Dick and took his hand. An infinite pity filled his heart as he looked down at her pallid, mournful face.
"It's all right now, mother," she said, hoarsely. "Dick'll stand up for us."
"Is it true, sir, is it true?" cried Mrs. Death, a wild terror in her eyes. "We've run here as fast as we could."
"It is unhappily true," he answered.
"Then where's my husband? Do you know what they're saying? That he murdered Mr. Boyd! They lie--they lie! Oh, my God! Is there any justice in the world?"
"Don't make a disturbance, Mrs. Death," said Inspector Robson, very kindly. "I am truly sorry for you, but you can do no good by coming here."
"Where else should I come, sir?" she asked, her tears falling fast. "Mr. Boyd is the only man who can tell me what has become of my husband, and he's dead, you say. Who killed him? What a wicked world--oh what a wicked, wicked world! Haven't I enough to bear without this being thrown in my teeth?"