While they hunted for her upstairs and down, high and low, all the time she was in the room itself--the room in which George Emmett was done to death; she had never left it. She was there when the waiter discovered him, as he supposed, dead on his seat, she was still there when they left him, as they thought, dead on the table. Whether she was there when he came back to life; and, if so, what took place between them, she only knows. She had gone when they returned and found the dead man on the floor; she had opened the window, and made her exit through it; and, in going, had, unknowingly, left behind that pattern of her frock which may prove to be a very awkward piece of evidence against her, when, one day, she's found. She possibly supposes that she's done rather a smart thing in getting away, as she thinks, scot-free. But has she? She's covered herself, in consequence, with more than a suspicion of murder. They're reasoning this way. They say that it was she who used that champagne bottle to so much purpose; and that was why she hid, like a coward, behind the curtains, when the waiter came into the room; and why she stayed hidden; and when the coast, as she thought, was clear, dropped, at the peril of her life, from the window. And because they're accounting, in that way, for her singular behaviour, all Newcaster is hot-foot after her; and, so I'm told, they're having placards printed, describing her, and offering a reward for her apprehension." He knocked the ashes out of his pipe with his boot; blew down the stem to make sure that it was clear; then went on. "There's one item I may add to make the tale complete. They've not only her description, they've her name. It appears that, for some reason, George Emmett did not enter her name in the register when he entered his own; but when it dawned on them that she was missing they opened the box in which her clothes were, and found that all, or nearly all of them, were marked--'D. Gilbert.' 'D' might stand for Dorothy, mightn't it?--which is by way of being a coincidence, but, of course, Gilbert has no affinity with Greenwood. Miss Gilbert seems to be rather a remarkable old lady; isn't that how she strikes you?" CHAPTER IX WHAT THE GIRL TOLD THE MAN