"I did not miss it until some time after I had returned downstairs. I wondered at first where I had dropped it. I then remembered the hand on my throat, which must have unloosened the brooch and caused it to fall. I knew it was necessary for me to recover it so it would not be known that I had been in the room. The house was very quiet then, and the hall was empty, though I could hear the murmur of voices in the library, so I walked along the hall and ran upstairs. The door of the bedroom was partly open, and by the light within I could see that the room was empty--except for _her_. I went into the room. The first thing I saw was my little brooch shining on the carpet, close by the bedside, near where I had been standing when the hand clutched at my throat. I picked it up and ran downstairs." "Is that the whole of your story?" She considered for a moment. "Yes, I think that I have told you everything." "What took you to Mrs. Heredith's room in the first place?" "I--I wanted to see her." "For what purpose? If you want me to help you, you had better be frank." "I wished to see the girl whom Mr. Phil had married." She brought out the answer hesitatingly, but the colour which flooded her thin white cheeks showed that she was aware of the implication of the admission. But Merrington was impervious to the finer feelings of the heart. He disbelieved her story from beginning to end, and was of the opinion that she was trying to hoax him with a concoction as crude as the vain imaginings of melodrama or the cinema. It was more with the intention of trapping her into a contradiction than of eliciting anything of importance that he continued his questions. "You say that you heard a noise at the window after the shot was fired. What did you imagine it to be?" "I was too nervous at the time to think anything about it, but since I have thought that it must have been someone getting out of the window." "Did you hear the window being opened?" "No; I heard nothing but the rustle, as I told you. But it may have been the wind, or my fear." "Did you catch a glimpse of the person in the room--whoever it was--when you were caught by the throat?" "No. I only felt the hand. It was quite dark, and I could see nothing." "You are quite sure this happened to you? You are sure it is not imagination?" "Oh, no, it was too terribly real." "Did you observe anything about the revolver when you picked it up?" said Merrington after a pause. "No, except that it was bright and shining." "Nor when you placed it in your dress to carry it downstairs?" "I do not know anything about fire-arms. When I got downstairs I locked it away as quickly as I could." "So you picked up a revolver which had just been fired, without noticing whether the barrel was hot or cold. Is that what you wish me to believe?" "I picked it up by the handle. I seem to remember now that it was warm, but I cannot be sure. I hardly knew what I was doing at the time."