"Why not?" I ventured cautiously.
Miss Destiny laughed significantly. "Why not indeed," she echoed, "it's my opinion that Gertrude knows much more about the glass eye than she dares to tell you, or anyone else."
My blood ran cold, for the moment. Apparently this disagreeable old woman had seen the eye on the drawing-room table, and thence had drawn the very worst conclusions. I ventured on a bold stroke. "Do you mean to say that Miss Monk has the glass eye?"
"I don't say that."
"Then she has not the glass eye," I said impatiently, and drawing a breath of great relief.
"I don't say that either."
"Then what do you say, Miss Destiny."
"Nothing, except that you will be wise to go away from Burwain and give up all idea of marrying my niece."
"Why?" I asked very directly.
"Because--as I said--Gertrude knows something about the murder."