Ethan planted himself with his back to the fire and lighted a cigarette with trembling fingers.
“Billings,” he said softly, “I’ve been a damned fool!”
“Yes—that is, I can’t believe it, sir,” was the respectful answer. But Billings’ expression said otherwise.
“Now I want you to tell me all you know about Miss Hoyt,” said Ethan. “By the way, what was her first name?”
“Cicely, sir; Miss Cicely Hoyt.”
“Cicely,” repeated Ethan softly. “It just suits her!”
“Beg pardon, sir?”
“Oh, never mind. Where does she live?”
Billings thought in silence a moment.