Clara had only a little time, and with the letters in her handbag she started down the stairs. There she heard some one, possibly Ellingham, on the back stairs, and in her haste, she fell, hurting her knee, and she must have dropped the handbag at that time. They knew now that Hawkins had found it later on. But for a few days they didn’t know, and hence the advertisement.
“I think we would better explain Hawkins,” Sperry said. “Hawkins was married to Miss Clara here, some years ago, while she was with Mrs. Wells. They had kept it a secret, and recently she has broken with him.”
“He was infatuated with another woman,” Clara said briefly. “That’s a personal matter. It has nothing to do with this case.”
“It explains Hawkins’s letter.”
“It doesn’t explain how that medium knew everything that happened,” Clara put in, excitedly. “She knew it all, even the library paste! I can tell you, Mr. Johnson, I was close to fainting a dozen times before I finally did it.”
“Did you know of our seances?” I asked Mrs. Wells.
“Yes. I may as well tell you that I haven’t been in Florida. How could I? The children are there, but I—”
“Did you tell Charlie Ellingham about them?”
“After the second one I warned him, and I think he went to the house. One bullet was somewhere in the ceiling, or in the floor of the nursery. I thought it ought to be found. I don’t know whether he found it or not. I’ve been afraid to see him.”
She sat, clasping and unclasping her hands in her lap. She was a proud woman, and surrender had come hard. The struggle was marked in her face. She looked as though she had not slept for days.