The detective quite agreed with her. He thought that the whole affair was wonderfully strange, particularly as he was ignorant of how Edith had obtained a valuable necklace from an old miser like Miss Gilmar; and, also, he could not understand her reason for taking it. He quite saw that she had deceived him in order to save herself and Ferris from being accused of the murder, but he was doubtful if she was so innocent of all knowledge concerning the death as she feigned to be. With this idea in his mind he addressed her with some sharpness, and asked her a leading question.
"If you did not kill the woman yourself," said he, "who did?"
"I don't know," answered Edith, candidly. "She was alive when I left her at nine o'clock, and when I saw her death in the paper I was as much surprised as any one."
"You knew, then, that she called herself Miss Ligram at Grangebury?"
"Oh yes, else I would not have known she was the victim. Though, to be sure," added Edith, with a nod, "the description of the Yellow Boudoir would have made me suspect. I spoke falsely for my own ends when I told you that I saw no newspapers at Norminster."
"Well, Miss Wedderburn," said Gebb, after a pause, "I see no reason to doubt your innocence, but I should like to hear your reasons for getting the necklace."
"I'll tell you the whole story, Mr. Gebb. Indeed, I am sorry now that I did not do so when you called to see me; but I was afraid of getting Arthur into trouble, and so held my tongue."
"It was your silence which caused his arrest," said Gebb. "Had you spoken out, he would not have been arrested."
"He could have exculpated himself," protested Edith, earnestly.
"I dare say; but in order to shield you--as I now see--he refused to speak. However, we can talk of these things later, Miss Wedderburn. Tell me your story."