Her red lips parted in a scornful smile.
"Oh, you make me tired," she retorted. "Good-bye, Mr. Foyle."
"Pardon me," he said, and thrusting a couple of fingers into his waistcoat pocket, fished out a piece of paper. "Do you know this writing?"
She handed the piece of paper back to him with a shake of the head.
"No. I never saw it before," she retorted, and passed out.
But Heldon Foyle had her finger-prints.