Nick did not reply. He stepped out on the third floor and turned to the right. The dimly lighted corridor was deserted. It ran parallel with one side of the house and led to a stairway and a narrow passage back of some of the rear apartments, evidently a passage and stairway designed for the use of servants and the removal of sweepings and rubbish. Nick found that Kate Crandall’s suite was the last in the side corridor. He paused at the door and listened, hearing nothing, and he then crouched and peered through the keyhole. He could see a thread of light under an inner door, which precluded hearing voices from within, and he then knocked sharply on one of the panels. There was no response. Nick waited a few moments, then knocked again, which had the desired result. The door was opened by the woman he was seeking. She was not conventionally clad for receiving visitors. Her fine figure was enveloped in a voluminous woolen wrapper. Her feet were thrust into a pair of worsted slippers. She appeared to have been on the verge of getting ready for bed. She drew back with a look of surprise on her darkly handsome face. “Goodness!” she exclaimed. “I thought one of the hall-boys knocked. What do you want?” “An interview with you,” Nick tersely informed her. “Don’t pretend, Miss Crandall, that you do not recognize me. A woman never forgets the face of a person she dislikes.” “I did not so pretend,” Kate retorted. “I knew you immediately, Mr. Carter, but I cannot imagine why you want an interview with me.” “I will presently inform you,” said Nick. “May I come in?” “Certainly.” “You are alone?” “Of course. I am nearly always alone here. I have a headache and was thinking of going to bed,” Kate glibly asserted. “That is why, perhaps, you were so long in answering my knock,” Nick remarked, more sharply eying her. “Precisely,” Kate nodded. “I was near not answering it at all. I am glad I did, however. As for disliking you, Mr. Carter, that is absurd. I bear you no ill will for the part you played in that Maybrick affair. I was not seriously involved in it. I always make it a point not to lay myself liable.” “To the law, you mean?” “To the law--certainly,” she bluntly admitted. “What else would I mean? I’ll keep out of the grabnet of the law, Mr. Carter, you can safely bet on that.” Nick wondered whether it was true, or only a bluff designed to dispel his suspicions. He had followed her into an attractively furnished parlor, where he instantly detected the odor of cigarette smoke. He wondered, too, whether he really had found her alone, or whether some male visitor, possibly Ralph Sheldon, had hurriedly concealed himself in one of the adjoining rooms. “Have a chair,” Kate added. “Really, Mr. Carter, I am quite pleased to see you, for all you think I dislike you. What do you want to interview me about? You have piqued my curiosity.” “You said you were alone here,” Nick remarked, instead of answering her question.