“And you left here between three and four o’clock on Sunday—yesterday afternoon?”
“Yes.”
“And the last time you saw your aunt she was alive?”
“Yes.”
“Do you employ a female servant?”
“No.”
Inspector Mitchell regarded the girl in silence. She bore his scrutiny with outward composure.
“Miss Baird,” he spoke slowly, weighing his words. “I took the message over the telephone to come at once to ‘Rose Hill’—that a crime had been committed here. The message was given by a woman.”
Kitty stared at him uncomprehendingly, dumbly; then, before they could detain her, she fled from the library and rushing upstairs, dashed into her room, locked the door, and flung herself face downward on the bed.