“No, and I doubt there being such. I mean, the house, though of complicated structure, is modern and I’m quite sure it hasn’t any concealed or subterranean passages. If it had, I think Mr. Tracy would have spoken of them to me.” “Why do you feel so sure of that?” “Only because he told me everything. I mean he was confidential by nature and I’ve never known him to have a secret from me.” “Why didn’t Mr. Tracy attend the dinner last night at which you were a guest?” She coloured a little, but answered frankly: “We had had a little tiff, and he was, while not really angry at me, just enough annoyed to stay home from the party. I think he regretted having declined the invitation, but then it was too late to change his mind.” “What was your disagreement about?” “Must I tell that?” “I think you’d better, Mrs. Dallas.” “I greatly prefer not to.” “Still I must request it.” “Well, then, he had said he wanted to tell me something about his niece, Miss Remsen.” “Something unpleasant?” “I feared so. I didn’t know. But he said it was a thing I ought to know about if I was coming into the family.” “He gave you no hint as to the purport of his disclosures?” “He wanted to, but I wouldn’t listen. I told him I didn’t want to hear it, at any rate, not then.” “Why did you take that attitude in the matter?” “I’ll try to explain. I have known Mr. Tracy about a year. I’ve been engaged to him about three months. Now, he had never mentioned this thing before. So I had a feeling that he had spoken impulsively, and perhaps on thinking it over would change his mind about telling me.” “And you had no curiosity about it?” “Oh, no, not beyond a natural wonder as to what it could be. But I am very fond of Alma Remsen, and I was positive it couldn’t be anything really serious. Perhaps an early love affair or escapade that would be better left buried in oblivion.” “So you had words over it all.” “Yes, I was so insistent that he should not tell me, and he so equally insistent that I should hear it, that we had a real quarrel.” “How did it wind up?” “By his leaving my house—he was calling on me—in a rage. I admit it was a foolish thing to quarrel about, but I was determined to have my way in the matter, and I did.” “When was this affair?” “It was Monday night.” “And to-day is Thursday. You didn’t see him again?” “No. He sulked Tuesday and Wednesday. I called him on the telephone yesterday and asked him if he was going to the Moores’ dinner party, and he said ‘No,’ very shortly and hung up the receiver.” “He was really angry, then?” “Yes, but I fancy more with himself than with me. Mr. Ames told me that Mr. Tracy was sorry about it all, and that he kept my scarf near him all the time. I know Mr. Tracy’s ways, and when he keeps any of my belongings near him, he isn’t really angry at me.” “You are speaking of the crimson scarf that was found on Mr. Tracy’s bed?”