"I know what I said," interrupted Maria, reddening slightly--"that the mantle was mine. I lied in order to shield Lydia. Yes," she continued, addressing Miss Hargone directly, "I was your friend, and as such defended you against the aspersions of my aunt, but now, as I find that you trapped me by that ring into confessing that I visited my uncle in London; when I see that, to save yourself, you are willing to sacrifice me, I renounce your friendship, and I order you to leave this house. Never dare to show your face here again."
Lydia, who had turned red and pale by turns, now rose to her feet, with a malignant expression on her face. "I shall go," said she slowly "and only too willingly; but first--"
"First," interrupted Torry, "you must explain how Julia Brawn became possessed of your mantle."
"I gave it to her, in the same way that Donna Maria presented her with the hat. If," she continued insolently, "articles of cast-off clothing are to be taken as evidence of my connection with the crime, Donna Maria is as guilty as I am."
"Not so," corrected the Spanish girl. "I gave the hat to Julia a long time ago--in fact, a week before she left my service, and she left that quite seven days before the murder. But as to your mantle, when I was up in London, on the day when the crime was committed--Saturday----"
"Pardon, the murder, took place on Sunday morning after midnight," said Torry precisely.
"Well on the day before the murder I saw Miss Hargone in Piccadilly. She wore that mantle."
"I did not!" contradicted Lydia very pale.
"You did. Mr. Vass was with me, and can prove it. I believe you gave that mantle to Julia, so that she might meet Mr. Grent and delude him into the belief that she was you."
"Ah!" cried Torry, recollecting the double ticket. "Then you, Miss, were the woman with whom Mr. Grent intended to travel to Genoa?"