"So we are forced back to the suicide theory," Gifford remarked. He had gone to the landing outside the door.
"Yes," Kelson replied as he joined him. "But as to the woman in the case, who could she possibly have been? I knew most of the girls who were at the dance, and the idea of a tragedy with any one of them seems inconceivable."
"One would think so," Gifford responded. "And yet—"
"You think it possible?" Kelson demanded incredulously.
"Possible, if far from probable," the other answered with conviction. "There are women who can be as secret as the grave, at any rate so far as appearances to the outer world are concerned. I wonder whom he danced with. Do you remember?"
"No. I seem to recollect him with a girl in a light green dress, but that does not take us far."
Footsteps on the stairway announced their host's return.
"The police will be here, directly," he reported, "and, I hope, a doctor. I have done my best to keep it from the ladies, and I don't think that, so far, any of them has an exact idea of what made me turn them back. Just as well the horror should be kept dark as long as possible. It is such an awful blow to me that I can scarcely realize it yet."
"Miss Morriston does not know?" Kelson asked.
"No. And I only hope it won't give her a dislike to the house when she does. For I am hoping to have her here a good deal with me, even if she marries."