do? I never suspected anything. Oh!"

Fullaway leaned across the table and filled his hostess's glass.

"Now," he said, motioning her to drink, "you know your maid's name and
address, don't you? Let me have them at once, and within a couple of
hours we'll know if the story about the dying mother was true."




CHAPTER X

THE SECOND MURDER


It had been very evident to Allerdyke that ever since Fullaway had
mentioned the matter of the missing maid, Celia Lennard had become a
victim to doubt, suspicion, and uncertainty. Her colour came and went;
her eyes began to show signs of tears; her voice shook. And now, at the
American's direct question, she wrung her hands with an almost
despairing gesture.

"But I can't!" she exclaimed. "I don't know her address--how should I?
It's somewhere in London--Bloomsbury, I think--but even then I don't know
if that's where her mother lives, to whom she said she was going. I did
know her address--I mean I remembered it for a while, at the time I
engaged her--a year ago, but I've forgotten it. Oh! do you really think
she's robbed me, or helped to rob me?"