“So I was until you came in.” “Really?” “Sure! Why should I deceive you?” “That’s the question,” said Nick. “I think that you have.” He had leaned nearer to her while taking a chair, so near that his head almost touched hers, for she then was seated. “That I have deceived you?” she asked, gazing at him. “Surely.” “How so?” “Some person was smoking a cigarette here within a very few minutes.” Kate Crandall laughed and tossed her head. “Dear me, is that why you think so?” she said derisively. “Really, Mr. Carter, you are not near as keen and clever as you think you are.” “No?” “Far from it. It was cute in you, of course, to detect cigarette smoke so quickly. But I was the smoker. You’ll find the end of my cigarette in the cuspidor, if you care to look. Here is the box.” Kate took it from the pocket of her woolen robe. “Have one. They seem to steady one’s nerves for a time. It may sharpen you up a bit.” “My wits don’t need the grindstone,” Nick replied dryly. “No?” queried Kate, with his own tentative intonation. “Far from it,” said Nick, imitating her. “You are the one who is not keen and clever. You were not the smoker, Miss Crandall. When a woman has just smoked a cigarette, the scent of it may be easily detected in her hair. I smelled of yours when I sat down.” “Oh, indeed!” “Now, having eliminated you, who was your visitor? Why did he hide when I knocked? I know, of course, that he did not depart, or I should have seen him.” Kate Crandall’s mocking smile had given way to a frown, but it was not of long duration. “You are very much mistaken, Mr. Carter,” she replied. “He left just before you arrived. If you think any person is concealed in my apartments, you are at liberty to search them.” “No, indeed; it is not material.” “I fail to see why you have any interest in me, or my visitor,” Kate quickly added. “Please explain. Why are you here? What have you to say?” “I want you to do most of the saying,” Nick replied. “Tell me, and give it to me straight, what do you know about Mr. Cyrus Darling?” Kate Crandall heard him without a change of countenance. “Well, just now, Mr. Carter, I know nothing about him,” she said pointedly. “He’s dead.” “What did you know about him when alive, then?” Nick demanded. “Very little. So little, Mr. Carter, that I’m quite ashamed of myself.” “Why so?” “Because, when I discovered the truth, it was not at all to my liking.” “What truth?” “That he was a married man.” “Do you mean that you did not know it before he died?” “That’s just what I mean.” “How long had you known him?” “Something like three months.” “Were you friends?” “The best of friends. I supposed, in fact, that we were to become something more,” Kate significantly added. “You mean?”