"Why, why, everything. She wasn't the person to do it; then the looks
of her room, and--They all got out of the window," she cried
suddenly, "and went away by the side gate into ------ Street."

"They? Who do you mean by they?"

"Why, whoever they were who carried her off."

I could not suppress the "bah!" that rose to my lips. Mr. Gryce might
have been able to, but I am not Gryce.

"You don't believe," said she, "that she was carried off?"

"Well, no," said I, "not in the sense you mean."

She gave another nod back to the police station now a block or so
distant. "He did'nt seem to doubt it at all."

I laughed. "Did you tell him you thought she had been taken off in
this way?"

"Yes, and he said, 'Very likely.' And well he might, for I heard the
men talking in her room, and--"

"You heard men talking in her room--when?"

"O, it must have been as late as half-past twelve. I had been asleep
and the noise they made whispering, woke me."