"It's a good deal more serious than that. Mr. Strange came to see Mr. Wayne and me last night. I may as well tell you as simply as I can. His name isn't Strange at all."
"Ho! ho! What's up?"
"Did you ever hear the name of—Norrie Ford?"
"Good Lord, yes! I can't quite remember—Let's see. Norrie Ford? I know the name as well as I know my own. Wasn't that the case—why, yes, it must have been—wasn't that the case Wayne was mixed up in six or eight years ago?"
"Yes, it was."
"The fellow gave 'em all the slip, didn't he?"
She nodded.
"Hadn't he been commuted to a life sentence—?"
"Mr. Wayne hoped it would be done, but it hadn't been done yet. He was still under sentence of—death."
"Yes, yes, yes. It comes back to me. We thought Wayne hadn't displayed much energy or ability of foresight—or something. I remember there was talk about it, and in the newspapers there was even a cock-and-bull story that Wayne had connived at his escape. Well, what has that got to do with Evie?"