She shrugged her shoulders without replying.
For an instant I gazed into those eyes which had once held me spell-bound, and said—
“The truth is already known to the police. Roddy Morgan was murdered by a woman, swiftly, silently, and in a manner which showed firm determination and devilish cunning. You may rest assured that she will not escape.”
She started. Her face was blanched to the lips, and she sat before me rigid, open-mouthed, speechless.
Chapter Sixteen.
Rocks among Pebbles.
Her attitude convinced me of her guilt, yet what conclusive proof had I? None—absolutely none.
“Your photograph was found in his rooms. I found it myself,” I said.