“Before I tell you where it was, I want to ask you if you remember what you did with it before we sat down at the table.”

“But I have already told you. I don’t remember. I think I left it on the table.”

“And if I should tell you that I know you slipped it inside your dress?”

Another long pause. The fire crackled, and above the voice of the stream sounded the note of the solitary bird.

“It is possible. I don’t remember.”

“I found it on the floor of the gallery above the stage.”

She was ready for that. Her look of astonishment was beautifully done. With her hands she made a gesture eloquent of bewilderment.

“But I don’t understand. In the grid? How did it get there?”

“I suggest that it dropped out of your dress.”

How frightened she was! Cold nightmarish panic was drowning her before his eyes.

“I don’t know—what—you—mean.”

“Indeed you do. You can refuse to answer me if you think it wise.” He waited a second. “My next question is this: Did you go up into the grid before the catastrophe?”

“Before!” The relief was too much for her. The single word, with its damn’ing emphasis, was spoken before she could command herself. When it was too late she said quietly: “No. I did not go up there.”

“But afterwards? Ah, don’t try!” cried Alleyn. “Don’t try to patch it up. Don’t lie. It will only make matters worse for you and for him.”

“What do you mean? I don’t understand.”

“You don’t understand! Tell me this. Was that morning in your dressing-room the only time Hambledon asked you if you would marry him, supposing your husband to be dead?”

“Who told you this story? What morning?”

“The morning you arrived in Middleton. Your conversation was overheard. Now, please answer. Believe me I know altogether too much for there to be anything but disaster in your evasion. You will damage yourself and Hambledon, perhaps irrevocably, if you try to hold out.” He paused staring at his own thin hands clasped about his knees. “You think, of course, that I am trying to trap you, to frighten you into a sort of confession. That may be true, but it is equally true that I am trying to help you. Can you believe that?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know.”

“The local police have heard the story of your conversation with Hambledon. They know where the tiki was found. They will learn, soon enough, that you had it on your person after the supper-party. And believe me, they will regard any further attempts at evasion with the very greatest suspicion.”

“What have I done!”