"I don't say that." "Then he is," said Clarice, daring her. "I don't say that, either." "Then what do you say?" "I say that we had better leave things as they are, and that you will please me by coming to my wedding with Ferdy." "You must give my brother up." "You've said that so often, Miss Baird. But saying it won't make me change my mind. Besides, as I said before, Ferdy isn't worth it. He's an ass--and worse." "Worse? What do you mean?" Zara looked into the other woman's eyes. "Come to the door," she said, taking Clarice by the arm. When in the hall, she helped the girl on with her fur coat, gave her the silk hat, and placed the silver-knobbed cane in her hand. Then she led her to the door of the flat. All this Clarice suffered in silence, wondering what was coming. "Good-night," said Zara, when Clarice was on the mat. "But what do you say about Ferdy?" asked Clarice, quickly. "I see I must tell you all," sighed the dancer. "No, I'll let you find out for yourself." She bent her head and whispered. "Search Ferdy's bedroom at The Laurels." "But," began Clarice, impatiently, only to find herself talking to the panels of the door. Zara had shut it abruptly, and left the disguised girl standing irresolutely on the mat. Clarice hesitated, and wondered if it would not be better to insist upon the door being opened again. But on second thoughts she went down the stairs, and drove back to her hotel. The long evening and the battle with Zara had worn out her strong nerves. Clarice passed a wakeful night. She wondered what Zara meant when she had told her to search Ferdy's bedroom. It could not be possible that Ferdy had anything to do with the crime, as he had been locked in on that night. Also, if Zara knew that Ferdy was guilty, she certainly would not marry him. There seemed to be no answer to the questions suggested by Zara's last remark. Clarice, therefore, tried to sleep, resolving to return to Crumel the next day and search the bedroom, as Zara had told her. She trembled to think what she might discover. Next morning the false Mr. Ferdinand Baird ate his breakfast, paid his bill, and drove to Liverpool Street Station to catch the ten o'clock train. In the tweed suit Clarice looked wonderfully handsome and distinguished, and as she adopted a manly air, no one had any suspicion that the good-looking young man was really a beautiful woman. She managed to get a first-class to herself, and thus escaped any chance of recognition. But on the Crumel platform she was greeted as Mr. Baird, and acknowledged the greetings calmly. On reaching the house, she found the French window open, and no servants about. In a few minutes she was safe in her own bedroom, and was dressing herself again in her woman's garb. Mrs. Rebson appeared. "It's all right, deary. No one thinks but what you're ill. How did you get along?" "Very well, Nanny. I'll tell you all later. Don't let any of the servants come upstairs for at least an hour."