Mitchell smiled significantly. "Pretty thin," he commented, and glanced over at Craige, before again addressing her. "You stopped to see Mrs. Parsons on Sunday morning, Miss Baird--and you brought those peaches home to your aunt." "I did not!" Kitty's voice rang out clearly. "I was at Mrs. Parsons' for a few minutes on Sunday on my way from church--" "With Major Wallace?" Kitty changed color. "Yes." "And Major Wallace went into the house with you?" Kitty paused in uncertainty and her eyes sought Wallace. He sat lolling back in his chair, his air of indifference plainly assumed as his restless fingers played with the catch of Mrs. Parsons' gold mesh bag. "I went upstairs to see Mrs. Parsons," she explained. "I left Major Wallace standing in the vestibule--" "And the front door open--" Mitchell broke in rudely. He turned to Mrs. Parsons. "Your house is an English basement, with the drawing room on the second floor. Where is your dining room?" "On the first floor." Mrs. Parsons had been following the dialogue with unwavering attention. At her answer Mitchell nodded his head with an air of triumph. "I'll amend my statement, Miss Baird," he said. "You did not carry those peaches home to your aunt, but Major Wallace did--when he called here to see her alone on Sunday afternoon." Wallace's air of indifference dropped from him and he swung to his feet, his hands clenched. "You're a damned liar!" he shouted. "Shouting won't help matters," Mitchell remarked. "For I have the goods on you." He tapped the papers in front of him. "Here is the sworn testimony of Mrs. Murray, who saw you enter this house on Sunday afternoon with a paper package under your arm, and when you left you carried no package and were so agitated that you weren't even conscious of bumping into Mrs. Murray as you hurried down the street toward Washington." Wallace stared at the Inspector and then at the others, but always his eyes passed over Nina Potter, sitting huddled in her chair, her eyes upraised in mute pleading. "Well," his voice was hoarse--discordant. "What if I did bring some peaches to Miss Susan as a 'peace offering?'" His lips twitched into a ghastly smile. "It doesn't follow that I murdered her." "No--?" Mitchell's tone expressed incredulity. "That's for the jury to decide." He looked across at Kitty. "You I charge with being an accessory to the crime." Charles Craige was the first to speak. "You bring a serious charge against my godchild," he said sternly. "I demand your proof." Mitchell turned slightly to address the man on his left. "How about it, Mr. Potter?" he asked. Potter seemed to have some difficulty in speaking, for a moment elapsed before he answered. "Kitty spent Sunday night with us," he began. "I came home late, having been detained at my club, and was surprised to see Kitty walk out of my apartment house and jump into Major Wallace's car--" He got no further. Kitty was on her feet, her face scarlet. "You saw me?" she cried. "Me!"