"I was. What of that?"
"You were in Jersey Street, Pimlico, on that night."
"I was never in Pimlico in my life!" declared Lydia wrathfully, "and, as I said before, I don't know where Jersey Street is."
"Do you know a man called Wrent?"
"I never heard of him!"
"Yet you visited him in Jersey Street on Christmas Eve, between seven and eight o'clock."
"Did I, really?" cried Mrs. Vrain, ironically, "and how can you prove I did?"
"By that cloak," said Lucian, pointing to where it lay on a chair. "You wore that cloak and a velvet-spotted veil."
"I haven't worn a veil of that kind for over a year," said Lydia decisively, "though I admit I used to wear veils of that sort. You can ask my maid if I have any velvet-spotted veils in my wardrobe just now. As to the cloak—I never wear rabbit skins."
"You might as a disguise."