"No!" she declared vehemently. "I am not ashamed—only I—I cannot tell you the reason I went to Harrington Gardens. That's all."
"Yours is, to say the least, a rather thin excuse, is it not?" I asked.
"What else can I say? Simply I can tell you nothing."
"But you admit that you went to Harrington Gardens. Did you go more than once?" I asked very quietly.
She nodded in the affirmative.
"And the last occasion was on the night when my friend was forced to fly, eh?" I suggested.
I saw that she was about to elude answering my question. Therefore, I added:
"I already know you were there. I have established your presence beyond the shadow of doubt. So you may just as well admit it."
"I—I do," she faltered, sinking again into her chair and resting her elbows upon her knees.
"You were there—you were present when the crime was committed," I said, looking straight at her as I stood before her with folded arms.