Mr. Marson flushed all over his worn face, and he glanced rapidly at Judith, then repeated his former denial with great deliberation.
"I know nothing about his death."
"Do you know anything, Miss Varlins?"
"I? how should I know?"
"I'm sorry to speak rudely to a lady," said Fanks, suavely, "but this is equivocation."
She looked despairingly at him with the expression of a trapped animal in her eyes, a mute appeal for mercy, but the detective steeled his heart against her, and spoke plainly:
"Do you remember a visit you paid the late Mr. Melstane at Binter's boarding-house during the early part of the month of November?"
"No, I do not."
"Do you recognise this handkerchief?" said Octavius, holding it out to her.
"No. It is a lady's white handkerchief. How should I recognise it?"