"From the lips of Mrs. Lawrence. I'm going to have a talk with her." Carroll was far from happy during his drive to the Lawrence home. The Warren mystery seemed to be verging on a solution, but in Carroll's breast there was none of the pardonable surge of elation which normally was his under these circumstances. It had been a peculiar case from the first. The _dramatis personae_ had all been of the better type, with the single exception of William Barker--they had been persons against whom the detective was loath to believe ill. And, most eagerly, he had shied from the belief that Mrs. Lawrence was connected in a sinister way with the death of Roland Warren. Yet he found himself en-route to her home, facing the ordeal of an interview with her--an ordeal for her as well as for him--and one through which he feared she could not safely come. For, frankly as Carroll had admitted to his friend that he hoped to find Naomi innocent--he was yet honest and fearless, and failure of the woman to clear herself meant her arrest. Carroll was determined upon that--yet he dreaded it as a child dreads the dentist--as something painful beyond belief. He rang the bell--then groaned as Evelyn Rogers greeted him effusively. She ushered him ostentatiously into the parlor and drew up a chair close to his-- "Mr. Carroll--it's just simply _scrumptuous_ of you to call on me informally like this. I can't tell you how tickled I am. I was sitting upstairs, simply bored to extinction. Sis has been a terrible drag on me recently--really you'd have thought there had been a death in the family. Or something! It's been simply graveyardy! And now you come in--like a darling angel--and save me from the willywoggles. You're a _dear_, and--" "But--but--I really came to see your sister." "Oh! _pff_! That's what poor dear Roland used to say all the time. But I always knew I was the one he wanted to see. Goodness, he was simply _crazy_ about me--but of course Sis never understood that. She hasn't yet realized that I'm grown up." "Peculiar how blind some folks are. But this time, Miss Rogers--I really do want to chat with your sister. Not that I wouldn't prefer a talk with you. So if you'll tell her I'm here--and would like to see her _privately_--" Evelyn rose and started reluctantly toward the door. "I suppose it's up to me to make myself very scarce. But it is simply _precious_ of you to admit you'd rather talk to me. Poor Roland used to say that--but he always said it as though he was kidding. I believe _you_!" "I assure you I'm serious." "I know it. And anyway, I was thinking of running out for a minute--and I suppose this is a good chance. Of course, I'd stay and see you if you wanted--but I suppose you've got something terribly dry to discuss and so--"