“You were in Kim’s room that night,—and I can prove it by a witness! Stay here,—all of you!”
She ran out of the room, and they heard her go upstairs.
“Don’t put too much reliance on what Miss Powell says,” Henrietta said to the detective. “She’s not quite herself.”
“All right, ma’am,” returned Hanley, but he looked closely at the speaker.
“Any news?” asked a man’s voice from the doorway, and Fenn Whiting came into the room.
“I couldn’t keep away,” he went on. “I’ve been over to the Powells’ and they said Elsie was here.” He looked about.
“She is,” began Henrietta, but Harbison, who had returned from his futile quest, impatiently broke in.
“I say, Whiting, listen to my theory.”
He proceeded to detail the matter of Courtney’s play and recalled to Whiting the wrath that Courtney exhibited at the bachelor dinner.
“By Jove, he was mad!” Whiting agreed, his attention arrested at once by the ideas Harbison put forth.