from the other side, which was momentarily expected.

The girl went through it all, line by line, almost word by word.
Whatever there might have been of relationship or friendship
between her and the dead man, the news of his terrible end left
her shaken, indeed, but dry-eyed. She was apparently more
terrified than grieved, and now that the first shock had passed
away, her mind seemed occupied with thoughts which may indeed
have had some connection with this tragedy, but were scarcely
wholly concerned with it. She sat for a long while with her hands
still resting upon the table but her eyes fixed out of the
window. Then at last she rose and made her way outside. Her
friend the reception clerk was engaged in conversation with one
or two men, a conversation of which she was obviously the
subject. As she opened the door, one of them broke off in the
midst of what he was saying and would have accosted her. The
clerk, however, interposed, and drew her a step or two back into
the room.

"Madam," he said, "one of these gentlemen is from Scotland Yard,
and the others are reporters. They are all eager to know anything
about Mr. Hamilton Fynes. I expect they will want to ask you some
questions."

The girl opened her lips and closed them again.

"I regret to say that I have nothing whatever to tell them," she
declared. "Will you kindly let them know that?"

The clerk shook his head.