"'They all swore black and blue that Addison told the truth.'"
"Hm!" reflected Coquenil. "I wonder why Anita changed her mind?"
"I'm not responsible for Anita," answered Pussy with a dignified whisk of her shoulders.
"No, of course not, of course not," he murmured absently; then, after a moment's thought, he said gravely: "I never really doubted your husband's innocence, now I'm sure of it; unfortunately, this does not lessen your responsibility; you were in the room, you witnessed the crime; in fact, you were the only witness."
"But I know nothing about it, nothing," she protested.
"You know a great deal about this young man who is in prison."
"I know he is innocent."
Coquenil took off his glasses and rubbed them with characteristic deliberation. "I hope you can prove it."
"Of course I can prove it," she declared. "M. Kittredge was arrested because he called for my things, but I asked him to do that. I was in terrible trouble and—he was an old friend and—and I knew I could depend on him. He had no reason to kill Martinez. It's absurd!"