"Well," pursued the detective, slowly, "Miss Pearl grew tired of sitting at the window, and went to bed. Here, according to her story, she fell asleep "--Perry Toat looked queerly at the young couple as she said this--"but later she awakened, thinking something was wrong."
"What did she mean by that, exactly?" asked Ralph, bluntly.
"She simply said that she had a feeling that something was wrong. It was about nine o'clock, or shortly after. She could not--so she said--be quite sure of the exact hour. However, she flung on the Harris tweed cloak and went down in the darkness. On hearing Parizade descend--although she did not know it was Parizade--she ran to the farthest end of the passage and crouched on the floor. Parizade, who, being blind, moved easily in the darkness, then went up the stairs again."
"But why should Miss Pearl hesitate to address her?" demanded Audrey.
"And why should she think anything was wrong?" asked Ralph.
Perry Toat hesitated. "I shall answer those questions later," she said, after a reflective pause. "You must let me tell my story in my own way, as it is not an easy one to tell."
Ralph nodded. "Go on. We are at your disposal."
"Miss Pearl," pursued the detective, "thinking the man might have no right to be in the house, went along the passage and looked into every bedroom. She had a box of matches with her, and struck a light in each room. Thus she found Lady Branwin dead, and, assured of this stole up the stairs again."
"Without giving the alarm?" cried Ralph, astonished.
"Ask yourself," said Perry Toat, vehemently, "what you would have done under the circumstances. Sir Joseph admired Miss Pearl, and wished his wife out of the way so that he could marry her. Miss Pearl recognised Lady Branwin at once, as she had often seen her in the Park and other places. She guessed if she gave the alarm, and was called as a witness, how she might be suspected of encompassing the death. Can't you see?"