Hugh was developing the instincts of a crossexaminer. "And Tommie Esmond, I suppose, introduced you to the card-sharping crew at the Elsinore flat, and you were launched as the cousin of Mrs. L'Estrange, who presided over this delectable establishment?"
"I was a distant cousin of Mrs. L'Estrange on my dear mother's side," was the answer.
She was lying terribly, he felt assured. But he had a card or two up his sleeve yet. Still, it was wise to see how far she would go.
"And when did you part with the so-called brother, George Burton?"
"Oh, very shortly after he came out of prison. I had one interview with him; I could not do less after his kindness to me. And in the meantime I had hunted up poor old Tommie Esmond."
"And what did you do after that night at Blankfield? I think you cleared out the next day. I heard you had paid everything up."
"Thank Heaven, yes. There was just a little money left. My life after that was a nightmare. Amongst other humiliations, I was a waitress in a tea-shop." A smile of vanity broke over the charming face. "The wages were very small, but I got a lot of tips." Perhaps in this particular instance she was not lying, if it was true that she had been in a tea-shop at all.
There was a little pause, and then Murchison spoke in his stern, inflexible voice:
"And how long is it since you saw George Burton?"
She had answered the question before, but he was hoping to entrap her into some unguarded admission. He could see that she was considerably thrown oft her balance, clever and ready as she was, by the extent of his knowledge.