were you."

I took the tray from her hands. "I would build upon yours to any
extent," I said; "but I am under no illusion whatever about Dr.
McMurtrie's disinterestedness. He and your father--it is your father,
isn't it?--are coming up to explain matters as soon as I have had
something to eat."

She stood silent for a moment, her brows knitted in a frown.

"They mean you no harm," she said at last, "as long as you will do
what they want." Then she paused. "Did you murder that man Marks?" she
asked abruptly.

I swallowed down my first mouthful of fish. "No," I said; "I only
knocked him about a bit. He wasn't worth murdering."

She stared at me as if she was trying to read my thoughts.

"Is that true?" she said.

"Well," I replied, "he was alive enough when I left him, judging from
his language."

"Then why did your partner--Mr. Marwood--why did he say that you had
done it?"

"That," I said softly, "is a little question which George and I have
got to discuss together some day."