We all turned, as if we were a piece of mechanism worked by the same spring, and stared at Miss Maitland. She sat in the chair, not moving, looking straight before her, weary and indifferent. The Chief held out toward her the piece of paper with the rose on the middle of it. "Have you a dress trimmed with these?" She moved her eyes so they rested on the rose, ran her tongue along her lips and said: "Yes." "Did you wear it on the night of the robbery?" "Yes." "Did you hear what Mrs. Price has just said?" "Yes." "What explanation do you make?" "None—except that I don’t know how it got there." "You deny that you were there yourself that night?" "Yes—I was never near the safe that night; I haven’t the slightest idea how the rose came to be in it; I never took the jewels; I have had nothing to do with Bébita’s disappearance; I haven’t done any of the things you think I’ve done. But what’s the good of my saying so—what’s the good of answering at all?" She dropped her face into her hands, her elbows propped on her knees. The attitude, the tone of her voice, everything about her, suggested an "Oh-what’s-the-use!" feeling. From behind her hands the words came dull and listless. "Do anything you like with me; it doesn’t make any difference. You think you’ve got me cornered; that being the case, I’ll do whatever you say." Mrs. Janney made a step toward her: "Miss Maitland, I’ll agree to let the whole matter drop—hush it up and let you go without a word—if you’ll tell us where Bébita is." Without moving her hands the girl answered: "I can’t tell, for I don’t know." Mrs. Price sank into her chair with a loud, sobbing wail. Some one took her away—Mr. George, I think. Then Mr. Janney had his say: "If you’re doing this to protect Price—" She cut him off with a laugh, at least it was meant to be a laugh, but it was a horrible, harsh sound. As she gave it she lifted her head and cast a look at him, bitter and defiant: "Protect him! I’ve no more desire to protect Mr. Price than I have to protect myself." The Chief’s voice fell deep as the church bell at a funeral: "If you maintain this attitude, Miss Maitland, there’s nothing for us to do but let the law take its course. Theft and kidnaping! Those are pretty serious charges." She nodded: "I suppose they are. Let the law do whatever it wants; I’m certainly not standing in its way. But as for bribing and frightening me into admitting what isn’t true, you can’t do it. All your money," she looked at Mrs. Janney and then at the Chief, "and all _your_ threats won’t influence me or make me change one word of what I’ve said."