“I am sorry to trouble you, Miss Duke, but I am inquiring into the recent crime at your father’s office, and I find I require to ask you a few questions.”
As he spoke he watched her sharply, and he was intrigued to notice a flash of apprehension leap into her clear eyes.
“Won’t you sit down?” she invited, with a somewhat strained smile.
He seated himself deliberately, continuing:
“My questions, I am afraid, are personal and impertinent, but I have no option but to ask them. I will go on to them at once, without further preamble. The first is, What was it that upset you so greatly on the day after the crime?”
She looked at him in evident surprise, and, he imagined, in some relief also.
“Why, how can you ask?” she exclaimed. “Don’t you think news like that was enough to upset any one? You see, I had known poor Mr. Gething all my life, and he had always been kind to me. I sincerely liked and respected him, and to learn suddenly that he had been murdered in that cold-blooded way, why, it was awful—awful. It certainly upset me, and I don’t see how it could have done anything else.”
French nodded.
“Quite so, Miss Duke, I fully appreciate that. But I venture to suggest that there was something more in your mind than the tragic death of your old acquaintance; something of more pressing and more personal interest. Come now, Miss Duke, tell me what it was.”
The flash of apprehension returned to her eyes, and then once again the look of relief.