The detective looked surprised and slightly amused.
“She’s fifty if she’s a day,” said Miss Cornelia treacherously in spite of a look from Lizzie that would have melted a stone.
The trace of a smile appeared and vanished on the detective’s face.
“Now, Lizzie,” he said sternly, “do you ever walk in your sleep?”
“I do not,” said Lizzie indignantly.
“Don’t care for the country, I suppose?”
“I do not!”
“Or detectives?” Anderson deigned to be facetious.
“I do not!” There could be no doubt as to the sincerity of Lizzie’s answer.
“All right, Lizzie. Be calm. I can stand it,” said the detective with treacherous suavity. But he favored her with a long and careful scrutiny before he moved to the table and picked up the note that had been thrown through the window. Quietly he extended it beneath Lizzie’s nose.