"That ought to do, Green," said the superintendent, as he strung tape round the discarded bundles. "We'll have the lady brought up at the afternoon sitting of the court. That'll give us time to talk it over with the people from the Treasury. Yes, what is it?" A man had tapped and opened the door. Before he could reply, a slim figure pushed by him. Green rose to his feet and hastily pushed his pipe into his pocket. Foyle raised his eyebrows and stood up more slowly. Lady Eileen Meredith confronted them with wild eyes and pallid face. She swayed a trifle, and the chief inspector with a quick movement placed his arm round her waist and helped her to a chair. "You are not well, Lady Eileen," said Foyle, slipping to her side. "Shall I do something?--send for a doctor?" She waved a slim hand in an impatient negative. "I--I shall be all right in a minute," she gasped. Her throat worked. "I wanted to see you, Mr. Foyle. I wanted to tell you--to tell you----" Her voice trailed away in piteous indecision. Heldon Foyle whispered a few words to Green, who nodded and passed out. The superintendent took a small decanter from a cupboard, poured something into a glass, and added some water. "Drink this," he said sympathetically. "You will feel better afterwards. That's right. Now, you wanted to tell me something." A little colour returned to the girl's pale cheeks. Her hands opened and shut convulsively. "The paper--this morning!" she exclaimed incoherently. "It said--it said----" Foyle rubbed his chin. "It said that we had detained a man in Sussex," he said encouragingly. She pulled herself together a little, but her whole form was trembling. "It was Mr. Grell?" she asked eagerly. He inclined his head in assent. "Yes, it was Mr. Grell." Her face dropped to her hands and her frame shook. But when she raised her head she was dry-eyed. The emotion that possessed her was too deep for tears. She gazed in a kind of stupor at the immobile face of the detective. "You have made a ghastly mistake," she said, and her voice was level and dull. "Mr. Grell had nothing to do with the murder. I killed that man. I have come here to-day to give myself up." A twinkle of amusement shot into the blue eyes of Heldon Foyle. The girl, oblivious to all save the misery that enwrapped her, noticed nothing of his amusement. But his next words aroused her. "That's curious," he said slowly, "very curious. You are the third person to confess to the murder. Really, I don't believe you can all be guilty." She stared at him in dumb amazement. Her tortured mind was slow to accept a new idea. "The third!" she echoed mechanically.