“But a number of people seem to know Mrs. Sin. I am sure you must have met her?”
“If I say that I know her, shall I be called as a witness?”
“Certainly not. I can assure you of that.”
Mollie continued to rock to and fro.
“But if I were to tell the police I should have to go to court, I suppose?”
“I suppose so,” replied Margaret. “I am afraid I am dreadfully ignorant of such matters. It might depend upon whether you spoke to a high official or to a subordinate one; an ordinary policeman for instance. But the Home office agent has nothing whatever to do with Scotland Yard.”
Mollie stood up in order to reach an ash-tray, and:
“I really don’t think I have anything to say, Miss Halley,” she declared. “I have certainly met Mrs. Sin, but I know nothing whatever about her, except that I believe she is a Jewess.”
Margaret sighed, looking up wistfully into Mollie’s face. “Are you quite sure?” she pleaded. “Oh, Miss Gretna, if you know anything—anything—don’t hide it now. It may mean so much.”
“Oh, I quite understand that,” cried Mollie. “My heart simply aches and aches when I think of poor, sweet little Rita. But—really I don’t think I can be of the least tiny bit of use.”