“I thought so at first, now I am not sure it was she.”
“Mrs. Faulkner?”
“Oh, no. She was in the Drawing Room at the other end of the house. No, it must have been either my imagination or some woman who had somehow entered and who afterward disappeared.”
“Go on.”
“I heard him say, or I thought I did, that she could have the emeralds, but he refused to marry her.”
“Yes,” a little impatiently. “I know about that. Tell me what happened.”
“Then I heard a strange, gasping sound, and I rushed in——”
“Was the room light then?”
“No, dark. The light went out that instant or a moment before. I pushed in, and I heard a sound opposite—on the other side of the room. At first, I thought it was my husband, but it was a quick, frightened breathing, and then the light flashed on and I saw it was Miss Vernon, huddled against the wall—no, against a small table, and looking scared to death. Do you wonder that I thought she had done something wrong? For just then I caught sight of my husband, stabbed, dying—oh, I knew in that first glance that he had been murdered. Then, I saw Blake and Mrs. Faulkner at the other end of the room. They were shocked and frightened, too, but I paid no attention to them, I looked right back to Eric. And he—well, the footman did ask him who did it—and he raised his hand and said ‘Neither Natalie nor Joyce.’”
“Are you sure that’s what he said?”