remark. In reality she was feeling the keen disappointment of having lost excuse for terminating the interview which she had supposed was hers.
"I am averse," she said, "to discussing questions bearing on this murder. I condemn the crime. Beyond that, it has no interest to me."
She knew that in thus speaking she was weakening the position she had taken at first. It was the natural sequence of having the ground cut from under her by Cranston's half-apology. The other eagerly seized the opening presented:
"Until Mr. Wing's murderer is discovered and punished, nothing and no one in any way connected with his past will be spared. I have said that I know who is his mother."
She had resumed her seat and again had herself under full control, but with some loss of vantage.
"What one man has discovered," she said, "any other man may discover. The mere fact that it can be discovered, is the end of secrecy."
"There are innumerable things that can be discovered," he said, "compared with the number of people who can discover them. There are hundreds
