"A few days," repeated the inspector. "And you parted on good terms?"
"Yes, on very good terms." She met his glance frankly.
Inspector Chippenfield was silent for a moment. Then, fixing his fiercest stare on the girl, he remarked abruptly:
"Where's Birchill?"
"Birchill?" She endeavoured to appear surprised, but her sudden pallor betrayed her inward anxiety at the question. "I—I don't know who you mean."
"I mean the man you've been keeping with Sir Horace Fewbanks's money," said the inspector brutally.
"I've been keeping nobody with Sir Horace Fewbanks's money," protested the girl feebly. "It's cruel of you to insult me."
"That'll about do to go on with," said Inspector Chippenfield, with a sudden change of tone, rising to his feet as he spoke. "Rolfe, keep an eye on her while I search the flat."
Rolfe crossed over from where he had been sitting and stood beside the girl. She glanced up at him wildly, with terror dawning in the depths of her dark eyes.
"What do you mean? How dare you?" she cried, in an effort to be indignant.