"Until what?" he asked bluntly.
"Until—this morning," she concluded, and I instinctively felt that she was not telling the truth.
"Until you heard the commotion in the hall?" inquired McQuade, insinuatingly. I felt that I could have strangled him where he stood, but I knew in my heart that he was only doing his duty.
"Yes," she answered.
"Then, Miss Temple, how do you explain the fact that you appeared immediately in the hall—as soon as the house was aroused—in your slippers and a dressing gown?"
She saw that she had been trapped, and still her presence of mind did not entirely desert her. "I had begun to change," she cried, nervously.
"Were you out of the house this morning, Miss Temple, at or about the time of the murder? Were you at the corner of the porch under Mr. Ashton's room?" The detective's manner was brutal in its cruel insistence.
Miss Temple gasped faintly, then looked at her father. Her eyes were filled with tears. "I—I refuse to answer any more questions," she cried, and, sobbing violently, turned and left the room.
McQuade strode quickly toward Major Temple, who had observed the scene in amazed and horrified silence. "Major Temple," he said, sternly, "much as I regret it, I am obliged to ask you to allow me to go at once to Miss Temple's room."
"To her room," gasped the Major.