stately and awful triumph, "she came with her sister—where is her sister now?"
"At the seaside somewhere, I suppose. She did not leave me her address," said Mrs. Wilcox weakly.
"At the seaside you suppose," echoed the medical woman with fine scorn. "No, my dear madam, she is dead—and Prudence Semaphore murdered her—murdered her in this very house. Oh, you need not look at me like that. I've not spoken until I have traced every link in the chain of crime."
"What did I say?" interposed Mrs. Dumaresq.
"What did I say from the very first?" She looked round appealingly at Mrs. Whitley. "I said I hoped she had not been murdered. You remember I used those very words."
No one heeded her, for everyone was looking at the medical woman, as she gloated over the sensation she had caused.
"For pity sake, tell us all—all in strict confidence," gasped Mrs. Wilcox. "What Captain Wilcox will say, I really cannot imagine."
"Well," said the medical woman, "I had my suspicions front the first, but they were
