“Ah, but they can, in view of what I already know,” broke in Mitchell triumphantly. “Police Headquarters in Pittsburgh reported to me on the long-distance telephone, Miss Deane, that they had found among the court records a certificate of the marriage of Bruce Brainard and your sister, Dorothy.” Mrs. Porter collapsed in her chair in speechless astonishment and stared at Vera, whose set face was as white as her linen uniform. “Is this true?” she gasped. “Yes,” replied Vera. “They were married just after Dorothy left boarding-school. She met Bruce while visiting the Arnolds in Chicago; it was a runaway match.” Mitchell, who had listened closely to her statement, nodded his head. “So I learned, and my assistant, who has been investigating Brainard’s past career, also told me that Brainard deserted your sister two months after their elopement. He also refused to support her.” “On the contrary, my sister declined to be supported by him when she found what manner of man she had married,” retorted Vera proudly. “She also refused to use his name, and never announced her marriage.” “But you knew it, and you knew what she had suffered at Brainard’s hands,” broke in Mitchell roughly. “Do you deny this?” “No.” Mitchell’s smile was not pleasant. “Were you also aware that your, eh, brother-in-law’s engagement to Miss Millicent Porter was announced on Monday night?” “Yes.” Vera’s gaze did not shift and her voice was steady. “Mr. Hugh Wyndham told me of the rumored engagement.” “Hugh!” Mrs. Porter raised her hands to her temples in bewilderment. “Did Hugh know that Dorothy was the wife of Bruce Brainard?” “Yes.” Vera’s cold hands closed convulsively over the chair back against which she was leaning. “Dorothy was honest with him, Mrs. Porter.” “Poor Hugh!” exclaimed Mrs. Porter, her eyes filling with tears. “He loves her devotedly.” Mitchell moved impatiently. “Miss Deane, I want your full attention,” he announced brusquely. “You have asserted that Bruce Brainard committed suicide. Where did he get the razor?” Vera paused; should she speak of the razor which Millicent had dropped in her flight from the house the night before? After all, had Millicent dropped it? Was it fair to involve Millicent until she had first had an opportunity to explain? Mitchell repeated his question with more emphasis: “Where did Brainard get the razor?” “I don’t know.”