"You didn't hear any other names of persons mentioned?" I asked. "Try and think, as all that you tell me is of the greatest importance to me."
The girl stood silent, while I paced up and down that room in which, not many hours before, I had endured that awful mental torture. She drew her hand across her brow, trying to recall.
"Yes, there was another name," she admitted at last, "but I can't at the moment recall it."
"Ah, do!" I implored her. "Try and recall it. I am in no hurry to leave."
Again the dark-eyed maid in the dainty apron was silent—both hands upon her brow, as she had turned from me and was striving to remember.
"It was some foreign name—a woman's name," she said.
I recollected the dead girl was believed to have been a foreigner!
Suddenly she cried—
"Ah, I remember! The name was Mary Brack."
"Mary Brack!" I repeated.