“Why?”
“Well—because Ella was gone nearly two hours and a half. My father went to bed, and I remained up for her. Wasn’t she with you?”
“Certainly not,” was my prompt answer, much surprised at her statement.
“Then something must have occurred after she left you,” my companion said.
“After she left me! What do you mean?”
“A very long time elapsed before her return,” Lucie remarked. “She may have been alone—but I think not.”
“Who was with her?”
“How can we tell?”
“But what causes you to think that Ella was not alone?”
“By her strange manner when she returned. She was pale and breathless, as though she had been hurrying, and although she had pinned it up I noticed that the sleeve of her blouse was torn, and that her wrist bore dark marks as though she had had a desperate struggle with some one.”