the subjects in which they were all interested. Miss Vallon was already an illustrator of books or magazines. Miss Cutler was still studying—while the two men painted pictures without any definite idea of their ultimate bestowal.
“Did you never hear Mr. Locke mention a relative or a near friend outside your circle?” Babcock asked.
“No, not that I remember,” Miss Vallon replied, thoughtfully. “I may have heard him speak of his mother once or twice, but only in a reminiscent way; I don’t know whether she is living or not.”
So Miss Vallon’s knowledge was of no more help than Post’s.
The examiner turned hopefully to Pearl Jane Cutler.
That young woman had recovered her normal poise, and faced the listening group calmly, even coolly.
Hutchins watched her intently, for he had left her rather abruptly that morning earlier, finding his time was so short.
“Can you tell us, Miss Cutler, any more concerning the family or friends of Mr. Locke, than the other witnesses have?”
“No,” she said, quietly, shaking her bobbed hair and raising her wistful eyes to the face of the questioner.
Her intent regard disconcerted him a trifle, but he went on:
“You know him, casually, as Miss Vallon does?”
“Precisely in the same way,” she replied. “I have never seen Mr. Locke except in Miss Vallon’s company. We live in the same house.”
“Then I will ask you concerning another phase of the matter. Will you tell me of your finding Mrs. Barham’s body on the smoking-room floor?”
“Finding—What! I—I didn’t find”
