"I think you would do better to question Li Min."
"I do not intend to omit doing that, as well," replied McQuade, imperturbably.
We remained in uneasy silence until the maid, who had answered the bell, returned with Miss Temple, who, dismissing her at the door, faced us with a look upon her face of unfeigned surprise. She appeared pale and greatly agitated. I felt that she had not slept, and the dark circles under her eyes confirmed my belief. She looked about, saw our grave faces, then turned to her father. "You sent for me, Father?" she inquired, nervously.
"Sergeant McQuade here"—he indicated the detective whom Miss Temple recognized by a slight inclination of her head—"wishes to ask you a few questions."
"Me?" Her voice had in it a note of alarm which was not lost upon the man from Scotland Yard, who regarded her with closest scrutiny.
"I'll not be long, Miss. I think you may be able to clear up a few points that at present I cannot quite understand."
"I'm afraid I cannot help you much," she said, gravely.
"Possibly more than you think, Miss. In the first place I understand that your father had promised your hand in marriage to Mr. Ashton."
Miss Temple favored me with a quick and bitter glance of reproach. I knew that she felt that this information had come from me.
"Yes," she replied, "that is true."