"Yes, sir. Several years ago, when we were children, we were making candy in the kitchen and Lucy burned herself badly. It left a broad scar on her left forearm, which she will bear as long as she lives."
"It is well to know that," said Mr. Burke.
"This girl," continued Tom, musingly, "says her name is Eliza Parsons, and she says it in Lucy's voice. But her manner is not the same at all. Eliza laughs at me and quizzes me; she is forward and scornful, and—and perfectly self-possessed, which Lucy could not be, under the circumstances."
"Have you seen her closely?" asked the detective.
"Yes, sir."
"And are still unable to decide who she is?"
"That's it, sir; I'm unable to decide. It's Lucy: and yet it isn't Lucy."
"Who is Eliza Parsons?"
"She refuses to say where she came from. But it seems she arrived at Elmhurst only a day or two after Lucy disappeared from home. It's that coincidence that makes me doubt the evidence of my own senses."
"Who hires the servants here?"