"You are not well, Lady Eileen," said Foyle, slipping to her side. "Shall I do something?—send for a doctor?"
She waved a slim hand in an impatient negative. "I—I shall be all right in a minute," she gasped. Her throat worked. "I wanted to see you, Mr. Foyle. I wanted to tell you—to tell you——"
Her voice trailed away in piteous indecision. Heldon Foyle whispered a few words to Green, who nodded and passed out. The superintendent took a small decanter from a cupboard, poured something into a glass, and added some water.
"Drink this," he said sympathetically. "You will feel better afterwards. That's right. Now, you wanted to tell me something."
A little colour returned to the girl's pale cheeks. Her hands opened and shut convulsively.
"The paper—this morning!" she exclaimed incoherently. "It said—it said——"
Foyle rubbed his chin. "It said that we had detained a man in Sussex," he said encouragingly.
She pulled herself together a little, but her whole form was trembling. "It was Mr. Grell?" she asked eagerly.
He inclined his head in assent. "Yes, it was Mr. Grell."