"Why not?" said the little old man, rubbing his hands together.
She tried to rise, but her frock had got caught between the chairs and pulled her to her seat again. The man next her put out his hand to steady her, but she dashed it away roughly. She looked round the party for an instant for all the world like an animal at bay, then she sprang to her feet and charged blindly. They crowded round her to prevent her falling; at the touch of their hands she stopped. She was out of breath as though she had been running.
"All right," she said, pushing their hands from her. "All right. I'll come quietly. I did it."
They caught her as she fell and laid her on the sofa watching the colour fade from her face.
The hostess, an old woman with white hair and a kind face, approached the little old man; for once in her life she was roused to anger.
"I can't think how you could be so stupid," she said. "See what you have done."
"I did it for a purpose," he said.
"For a purpose?"
"I have always thought that girl was the culprit. I have to thank you for the opportunity you have given me of making sure."