Dredge nodded. "I hear Miss Destiny knows something about that."
At this moment, as if in answer to her name, the little old lady stepped daintily into the back room. She looked as shabby and frail as ever, but she undoubtedly was a gentlewoman, and her eyes still revealed a strong vitality. With a curtsey to me and to Cannington, she addressed herself graciously to Inspector Dredge.
"My trap is at the door, sir, and I am anxious to return to my home at Burwain, since this poor woman I came to see is unfortunately dead."
"Murdered," said Dredge laconically.
Miss Destiny blinked with her wonderfully youthful eyes, and recoiled with a nervous gesture of her hand. "Murdered," she whispered, half to herself. "They did not tell me that."
"Who did not tell you, ma'am?" demanded the Inspector brusquely.
"Lucinda, my servant, Mr. Giles and his wife," she replied brokenly. "How was she murdered, sir?"
"An ordinary hat-pin with a blue glass bead for a head was thrust into her heart, ma'am. She must have died immediately."
"How dreadful. But why should she be murdered, poor soul?"
"So far as I can gather, on account of her glass eye, which is missing. I should like to hear what you have to say on that point, ma'am?" and Dredge fixed his stern eyes inquisitively on the little old lady.