"I locked the door of the sitting-room, which was between his bedroom and mine. There was no exit from his bedroom, and to get out and down the stairs he would have had to open the sitting-room door. Now the key was under my pillow and the door was locked in the morning. No, Mrs. Ward, Brendon is innocent." "He might have stolen the key while you slept." Train shook his head. "Impossible. I sleep very lightly, and on that night I hardly slept at all." "Why. Was anything wrong?" "I can't tell you that, Mrs. Ward, without violating the confidence of my friend. Indeed, I have said too much. Promise me you will not speak of what I have told you." "I promise, but I am quite sure that the holly berry was dropped by George Brendon, and that he was in Mrs. Jersey's sitting-room on that night. He is the criminal." "I tell you he is not, Mrs. Ward." "Don't excite yourself, Mr. Train. Here is Mr. Brendon and Dorothy." She sailed toward them with open hands. "Finished your talk. We must say good-night." And to herself she murmured, while smiling, "I've got you at last--I've got you at last." And Brendon shook hands with Madame Judas, quite unconscious of her premeditated treachery. CHAPTER XI MR. BAWDSEY AT HOME Under the rule of Miss Bull--for Margery was a mere figure-head--the house in Amelia Square was much more lively. Most of the old boarders had departed, as their nerves would not permit them to stop in a dwelling wherein a crime had been committed. Mrs. Taine carried her knitting to her sister's house at Clapham, Mr. Granger took the "Death of Nelson" to a boarding-house on Highgate Hill, and Harmer went to rejuvenate his antiquity at some German baths. In place of these ancient creatures came bright young men and girls who were up to date in every way. None of them minded about the crime. The house was cheap, it was now bright, and in a few months the tragedy was almost forgotten. No one would have recognized the changed atmosphere of the place, save for Miss Bull, who still sat nightly playing Patience in her favorite corner. So little did she mind the horror of the murder that she took up her abode in Madame's sitting-room, where it had happened. She still retained her own bedroom, and Margery kept hers; but the sitting-room Miss Bull found very pleasant, for she could ask her friends into it for afternoon tea without having to mix with the too-lively boarders in the drawing-room. And the majority of them were extremely lively; so much so that Miss Bull sent several away and checked the exuberant spirits of the others. The girls played ping-pong, the men sang music-hall ditties, and in conjunction they tried to gamble. But Miss Bull soon put a stop to that. She had no notion that the house should get a bad name after her difficulty in obtaining the lease from Lord Derrington.