"She shot your brother; there is not a doubt of it."
"My God! And I thought——" They were alone in the office, and Brierly dropped weakly into the nearest chair and dropped his face upon his hands.
"You thought," finished Ferrars, "that I was interested in the woman. I was. I suspected her from the very first, and so did Hilda Grant."
In the inner room, Mrs. Jamieson opened her eyes and looked up to meet the gaze of the fair woman who was in all things what she was not.
Ruth bent over her, a glass of water in her hand.
"Drink this, Mrs. Jamieson," she said simply.
A shudder like a death throe shook the recumbent form. She lifted herself by one elbow, and caught at the glass, drinking greedily. Then, still holding the glass, she said slowly:
"Then you know me?"
"Yes."
"How?"