responded, coldly.

An angry flush came sweeping over the face of the girl, annoyance at her
own folly, David thought. She added quickly that she and her uncle had
only been down in Brighton for three days.

"Nevertheless, I was in this room two nights ago," David replied. "If you
know all about it, I pray you to give me certain information of vital
importance to me; if not, I shall be compelled to keep my extraordinary
story to myself, for otherwise you would never believe it. Do you or do
you not know of my visit here?"

The girl bent her head till Steel could see nothing but the glorious
amber of her hair. He could see, too, the fine old lace round her throat
was tossing like a cork on a stream.

"I can tell you nothing," she said. "Nothing, nothing, nothing."

It was the voice of one who would have spoken had she dared. With
anybody else Steel would have been furiously angry. In the present case
he could only admire the deep, almost pathetic, loyalty to somebody who
stood behind.

"Are you sure you were in this house?" the girl asked, at length.

"Certain!" David exclaimed. "The walls, the pictures, the
furniture--all the same. I could swear to the place anywhere. Miss
Gates, if I cannot prove that I was here at the time I name, it is
likely to go very hard with me."