"At Vine Street, I think," muttered Winter in Furneaux's ear.
"No, here, I insist; we must strike now. She must realize that we have a case. Give her time to gather her energies and we shall never secure a conviction."
Winter loathed the necessity of terrifying a woman, but he yielded, since he saw no help for it. This time they had not long to wait. Soon they heard a rapid, confident tread on the stairs, and Hylda Prout was with them in the library. Both men, who had been seated, rose when she entered.
"Well," she said jauntily, "are you convinced?"
"Fully," said Winter.
She turned to Furneaux.
"But you, little man, what do you say?"
"I have never needed to be convinced," he answered. "I have known the truth since the day when we first met."
Something in his manner seemed to trouble her, but those golden brown eyes dwelt on him in a species of scornful surprise.
"Why, then, have you liberated Janoc and his sister?" she demanded.