"I don't like to," hesitated Gerard. "It was of a lady. And perhaps I was mistaken."
"Not Alice herself," cried Sir Francis, jestingly.
"No, no. I—think—Alice—holds—the—same—suspicion," he added, with a pause between each word.
"You had better trust me, Gerard. No harm shall come of it, to you or to her; I promise you that."
"I thought," breathed Gerard, "it was Selina Dalrymple."
"Selina Dalrymple!" echoed Sir Francis, utterly surprised. "Since when have you thought that?"
"Ever since."
"But why?"
"Well, partly because no one but myself and Selina went into the room; and I know that it was not I who took it. And partly because her visit to the house that evening was kept secret. Her name, as I dare say you know, was never spoken of at all in connection with the matter. Alice did not say she had been there, and of course I did not."
"But how do you know she was there?"