remember that poor boy."

"What poor boy?"

"Roland Warren."

Carroll with difficulty concealed a smile.

"I see! And now that I've remembered him again, suppose you tell me what
you know about him and the case?"

"It's principally about what I read in the papers this morning. Really,
Mr. Carroll, there ought to be a law against newspapers printing such
ridiculous things!"

"As what, for instance?"

"That thing they had in there this morning. Why, the way they mentioned
Hazel Gresham, you'd have thought that they thought _she_ was the woman
who killed Roland--the woman in the taxicab."

Carroll's eyes narrowed slightly. The faint smile still played about
his lips.

"You don't think she was?"

"Oh, Mr. Carroll! Please, _please_, don't be so irresistibly _absurd_!
Why in the world should Hazel kill the man she was engaged to?"

"I don't know."