CHAPTER XXVIII
"Well" Nora Verney asked in a choked voice, when she saw that Miss Ricardo had read to the end of the two columns. "Will this help or harm him?"
The train had started, though the two women had been almost unconscious of slamming doors and the confusion of departure.
"Let me think," said Terry, still forgetful of the letter to Sir Ian, which by this time should have been begun.
"It was wicked of Liane to say that about the revolver," Nora exclaimed, unable to obey. "After all he had done for her, to say that it was his, when she might so easily have kept that to herself. No one would have supposed she knew anything about it, if she hadn't volunteered the information. And—yet"
She checked herself suddenly, biting her lip. It had been on the tip of her tongue to say: "Since Liane saw the revolver lying on the ground, after Ian and I had gone away from the Tower, that ought to prove he wasn't the murderer."
She had forgotten, for an instant, that Terry did not know what Sir Ian had known, since his last night at
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