"I never thought for one minute you had, my dear," said the poor landlady. "All the same, Martha is as dead as a door-nail. She is now with her late husband I expect, though it can't be a very pleasant place where such a rascal has gone to. Not that I want to say anything bad against them that are gone, for we may be the same to-morrow," and so poor Mrs. Sellars, quite incoherent with grief and bewilderment, maundered on aimlessly.
Patricia was invited to enter the drawing-room by a jovial-looking man, whose would-be military air did not suit his looks. He was stout, red-faced, grey-haired and bluff in his manner, resembling the typical John Bull more than anything else. He tried to be stiff, but failed in his buckram civilities when he forgot that he was Inspector Harkness and remembered that he was primarily a human being. Miss Carrol was so pretty and graceful in spite of her white face and drooping air, the result of fatigue, that the officer beamed on her approvingly. But having placed a chair for her, and one for Mrs. Sellars, who was to be present at the interview, he became aware that he had his duty to perform, and looked as stern as he possibly could.
"Now, young lady," he said, arranging some papers, and getting ready to take notes, "what do you know of this matter?"
"Nothing," said Patricia, coolly and decisively. She was now quite her own clever, ready-witted self, as the difficulties of her position had acted upon her like a tonic. In spite of Inspector Harkness's suave demeanour, she was fully aware that he would not hesitate to arrest her, if he believed she was in any way inculpated. Her curt answer rather annoyed him.
"Nothing," he repeated sharply. "That is rather a strange denial to make, in the face of the fact that you were the last person who saw this unfortunate lady alive. Do you deny that, Miss Carrol?"
"No. Why should I? I was with Mrs. Pentreddle from the time Mrs. Sellars left with the others for the Curtain Theatre----"
"Half-past six, as we thought the house would be full," interpolated Ma sadly.
--"until nearly half-past eight o'clock," finished Patricia calmly.
"And after that?" asked Harkness, noting down this fact and acknowledgment.
"I was wandering about Hyde Park, lost in the fogs until half-past eleven."