“Come here, Pixie, please! Stand before me! You have heard what Ellen says! Was it Mademoiselle’s room out of which you were coming?”
“It—was, Miss Phipps!” said Pixie, with a gulp; and a groan of dismay sounded through the room, at which Miss Phipps’s eyes sent out a flashing glance.
“Silence, please! Leave this to me! Was it you who let the bottle fall and broke it, then, though you would not acknowledge it when I asked just now?”
Pixie’s lips moved, but she seemed so paralysed with fear that she had to repeat her words twice over before they could be heard.
“No, I—I didn’t break it, Miss Phipps! I didn’t break it!”
“Do you mean to say you know nothing about it? Did you not notice it when you were in the room? May I ask what you were doing in that room at all? You had no business in there.”
“I—I—please, Miss Phipps, the gas was down; I didn’t see anything!”
“I asked you, Pixie, what you were doing in that room?”
To the dismay of her companions, Pixie hung her head and refused to answer, and, when the question was repeated, had no reason to offer but a stammering, “It was nothing! I was doing nothing!”
“That is nonsense, Pixie; you would not go upstairs and into a strange room, to-night of all nights, without a very definite reason. I insist upon your telling me what you were doing. If it is nothing of which you are ashamed, you need surely not hesitate to speak.”