He led the way into the usual dark wooden passage. The star dressing-room was the first on the left. Hambledon knocked on the door, opened it, and led the way in. Carolyn sat at her dressing-table. She still wore the black lace dress she had put on for the party. Her hair was pushed back from her face as though she had sat with her head in her hands. Old Susan Max was with her. Susan sat comfortably in an arm-chair, radiating solid sense, but her eyes were anxious. They brightened when she saw Alleyn.

“Here he is, dear,” she said.

Carolyn turned her head slowly.

“Hullo,” she said.

“Hullo,” said Alleyn. “Hambledon says you want me.”

“Yes, I do.” Her hands were trembling violently. She pressed them together between her knees.

“I just thought I’d like you here,” said Carolyn. “I’ve killed him, haven’t I?”

“No!” said Hambledon violently.

“My dear!” said Susan.

“Well, I have. I cut the cord. That was what did it, wasn’t it?” She still looked at Alleyn.

“Yes,” said Alleyn in a very matter-of-fact voice, “that was what set the thing off. But you didn’t rig the apparatus, did you?”

“No. I didn’t know anything about it. It was a surprise.”

She caught her breath and a strange sound, something like laughter, came from her lips. Susan and Hambledon looked panicky.

“Oh!” cried Carolyn. “Oh! Oh!”

“Don’t!” said Alleyn. “Hysterics are a bad way of letting things go. You feel awful afterwards.”

She raised one of her hands and bit on it. Alleyn picked up a bottle of smelling-salts from the dressing-table and held it under her nose.

“Sniff hard,” he said.

Carolyn sniffed and gasped. Tears poured out of her eyes.

“That’s better. You’re crying black tears. I thought that stuff was waterproof. Look at yourself.”

She gazed helplessly at him and then turned to the glass. Susan gently wiped away the black tears.

“You are a queer one,” sobbed Carolyn.

“I know I am,” agreed Alleyn. “It’s a pose, really. Would you drink a little brandy if Hambledon got it for you?”

“No.”

“Yes, you would.” He looked good-humouredly at Hambledon, who was standing miserably by her chair. “Can you?” asked Alleyn.

“Yes—yes I’ll get it.” He hurried away.

Alleyn sat on one of the wicker baskets and spoke to old Susan.

“Well, Miss Max, our meetings are to be fraught with drama, it seems.”

“Ah,” said Susan with a sort of grunt.

“What do you mean?” asked Carolyn. She turned to the mirror and, very shakily, dabbed at her face with a powderpuff.

“Mr. Alleyn and I have met before, dear,” explained Susan. “Over that dreadful business with Felix Gardener, you know.”

“Yes. We spoke about it that night on the train.” Carolyn paused, and then she began to speak rapidly, urgently and with more command over her voice.