"Or detectives?" Anderson deigned to be facetious.

"I DO NOT!" There could be no doubt as to the sincerity of Lizzie's
answer.

"All right, Lizzie. Be calm. I can stand it," said the detective
with treacherous suavity. But he favored her with a long and careful
scrutiny before he moved to the table and picked up the note that
had been thrown through the window. Quietly he extended it beneath
Lizzie's nose.

"Ever see this before?" he said crisply, watching her face.

Lizzie read the note with bulging eyes, her face horror-stricken.
When she had finished, she made a gesture of wild disclaimer that
nearly removed a portion of Anderson's left ear.

"Mercy on us!" she moaned, mentally invoking not only her patron
saint but all the rosary of heaven to protect herself and her
mistress.

But the detective still kept his eye on her.

"Didn't write it yourself, did you?" he queried curtly.

"I did not!" said Lizzie angrily. "I did not!"

"And--you're sure you don't walk in your sleep?" The bare idea
strained Lizzie's nerves to the breaking point.