"No," answered Britz.
"Then it is useless for me to wait." She moved toward the door but the detective interposed.
"I shall detain you only a few minutes," he said; "but having found you here it is necessary that I should ascertain your identity and the reason for this late visit."
A shock passed through her, as though he had offered her an indignity.
"I must go," she declared. "You have no right to detain me or to question me."
"Would you prefer being questioned at Police Headquarters?" he inquired.
The implied threat had an immediate effect on her. She recoiled as from a blow and moved slowly into the sitting-room. The detective followed her, after directing the servant not to leave the house.
"Madam, what is your name?" he demanded brusquely.
It was not Britz's habit to be gruff with women. By nature courteous, considerate of the weaker sex, he nevertheless realized that soft phrases will not prop a witness who, through sheer desperation of will, has been staving off physical collapse. On the contrary, harshness in the inquisitor, by arousing antagonism or fear, will frequently serve to carry the witness through a most desperate ordeal. In this case, however, the woman showed neither fear nor resentment. Evidently she had suffered so much as to have exhausted her capability for further suffering. She submitted to the other's will like a tired child, dropping into a chair and eyeing him with a vacuous expression.
"I am Mrs. George Collins," she answered his question in a weak, listless voice.