"The worst is that I am supposed to have killed Percy Vane," said Mrs. Ward, coolly. "So you accuse me of that?" she asked Ireland.
"By no means. But you were at that ball----"
"I was. In a blue domino with a sprig of holly at my breast."
"And you were with Mr. Vane?"
"No, I was not!"
"You went out with Mr. Vane."
"I did not. It was my sister."
"Your sister!" said Derrington. "Hah!" and he relapsed into silence. Mrs. Ward shot a suspicious look at him, but his inscrutable face betrayed nothing.
"I remember," said Ireland, in a slow, prosy way, "that there were two Miss Howards at San Remo--at the Hotel d'Angleterre. They were with their father, General Howard. I never met them, but Mr. Vane went frequently to call at the house."
"He did," said Mrs. Ward, "if by house you mean the hotel. The fact is, my sister Jenny was in love with Captain Vane----"