"It is a lie. It is an outrageous lie," cried the girl, turning flaming eyes upon the stout managing director of Punsonby's. "You know it's a lie, Mr. White! Thousands of pounds have passed through my hands and I have never—oh, it's cruel."
"If you will only keep calm for a little while, miss," said the man, who was not unused to such outbreaks, "I will explain that at the moment of your dismissal there was no evidence against you."
"No definite knowledge of your offence," murmured Mr. White.
"And now?" demanded the girl.
"Now we have information, miss, to the effect that three registered letters, containing in all the sum of £63——"
"Fourteen and sevenpence," murmured Mr. White.
"Sixty-three pounds odd," said the detective, "which were abstracted by you yesterday are concealed in this flat."
"In the left-hand bottom drawer of your bureau," murmured Mr. White. "That is the definite knowledge which has come to us—it is a great pity."
The girl stared from one to the other.
"Three registered envelopes," she said incredulously; "in this flat?"