"I killed him."
A gasp. "God—! Why!"
"He knew—he said you had told him. He knew because he was outside your flat all night and photographed her as she went out."
The blood of the listener froze with horror. "I—I don't know what you're talking about—who is the 'she'?"
"Beryl Merville."
"It is a lie—absurd—Miss Merville—! Here?"
He found his breath insufficient for his speech. Something inside him was paralyzed: his words were disjointed.
"It is true—she was here. She told me."
"You—you're mad! Told you! It is a damned lie. She was never here. If Moropulos said that, I'm glad you've killed him!"
"He took a photograph and wrote a statement; you know about that because he spoke to you and you admitted it all."