Except Mrs. Reeves. She knew more of Vicky's home life than any of the rest of us, but even she knew nothing of the girl's origin. She had first met her at one of Miss Gale's studio parties, and had taken a fancy to her at once. "Where did _you_ first meet her, Miss Gale," the coroner interrupted to ask. "She came to my studio to look at my pictures," was the reply. "She admired them, and bought one. She was so pleasant and so interested in my work that she came two or three times, and then I invited her to one of my little studio affairs. She quickly made friends, and she invited us to her house. I went there first about two years ago." "So did I," Mrs. Reeves resumed. "And since then, I have been there frequently, and every time I saw the girl I liked her better. But she was always a bit of a mystery. I confess I tried at times, to learn something of her previous life. But she adroitly evaded my questions, and cleverly changed the subject. I think, however, from chance hints she let drop, that her home was somewhere in the Middle West." "An indefinite term," observed Coroner Fenn. "It's all I know." "Where did Miss Van Allen go on her frequent absences from her home?" "That I don't know, either. Often she'd be away a week, and on her return would tell of a gay house party down on Long Island or a week-end trip up Westchester way, but I don't remember any definite place she visited." "I do," piped up Ariadne. "She often goes to Greenwich, Connecticut, and to Bronxville. I've heard her tell of these trips. She has a wide circle of acquaintances and, of course, she's a favorite with all who know her." "I have a piece of evidence," resumed Mrs. Reeves, "which I daresay I ought to exhibit. It is a letter from Miss Van Allen, which I received only this morning." This caused a sensation. A letter from Vicky Van! Just received! I found myself trembling in my shoes. And I asked myself why. Was I afraid the girl would be caught? Did I want to shield a felon? And I had to admit to myself that I did. I wasn't in love with Vicky Van, but I had a tremendous interest in her, and I didn't want that little lone, helpless person haled before a court of justice. Vicky did seem terribly alone. Hosts of friends she had, but no one who was in any way responsible for her, or in a position to help her. Well, if she ever returned, voluntarily or perforce, she would find a friend and champion in one Chester Calhoun, of that I was certain! Mrs. Reeves handed her letter over to the coroner, and he read it out. It ran: