“You heard no one ask questions about it that morning at the station?”
“No, Mrs. Pangborn,” said Tavia bravely. “Had I any suspicion that such a thing as this could have happened I should have gone to you at once, both to save my best friend, who is now all but prostrate, and to save you this great annoyance.”
The ring in her voice was unmistakable. Not one who heard her doubted the sincerity of her remarks.
“Thank you,” said Mrs. Pangborn, thus dismissing her questions.
“Now I must call upon those who are known to oppose the club known as the Glens,” she said further. “I believe Miss Faval is their leader?”
Jean Faval stood up.
“I know nothing about it,” she declared, “and the first time I ever saw a picture of Miss Dale was in the paper you have there. I can prove to anyone that the morning Miss Travers claimed that picture was taken from her room I was not in the hall from dressing time until luncheon.”
There was a murmur as she sat down. Evidently something else was expected when the rival leader underwent her questioning.
“This need go no further,” said Mrs. Pangborn, “unless anyone will volunteer information.”
She waited, but no one spoke.