She sat, still clutching her bag, and gazed at him. Wolfe told me to get my notebook and I did so. A man getting a notebook and pen ready sometimes makes quite an effect.
Wolfe returned her gaze. “I suppose Mr. Goodwin told you that I wanted to speak with you about Mrs. Whitten.”
She nodded. “Yes, that’s what he said — no, he said on behalf of Mrs. Whitten.”
Wolfe waved it away with a finger. “He may have used that phrase. He likes it. In any case, I’ll come straight to the point. I think I can arrange it so that Mrs. Whitten will not prosecute, if you’ll help me.”
“Prosecute?” She was only so-so at faking surprise. “Prosecute who?”
“You, Miss Alving. Have you no notion of what charge Mrs. Whitten can lay against you?”
“Certainly not. There isn’t any.”
“When did you last see her?”
“I never have seen her — that is, I’ve never met her.”
“When did you last see her?”