Edith looked rigidly at the detective with horror in her dark eyes, and for the moment seemed scarcely to comprehend his news. She appeared to be genuinely astonished and shocked; yet her next question conveyed to Gebb a hint that she was not altogether unprepared for the information.
"Did he kill her?" she stammered, laying her hand on Gebb's arm.
"He! Who?" asked the cunning detective, trying to trap her into a hasty speech.
"Dean! Marmaduke Dean!" said the girl, breathlessly.
"What do you know about Marmaduke Dean?"
"Everything! No doubt I know more than you do. Have you never heard of the murder which took place in this house?"
"In the Yellow Boudoir. Yes."
"Ah! you know the story!" cried Miss Wedderburn, suspiciously.
"I do; and I have come down to see you about it. Please take me inside, Miss Wedderburn, and show me the Yellow Boudoir in which Dean murdered your cousin Kirkstone."
"My cousin Kirkstone? You seem to know a great deal of our family history, Mr. Gebb," said Edith, drawing herself up.