Miss Thorne was still smiling, but again the vague, indefinable shadow,
momentarily lifted, darkened her eyes.
"You may be frank, of course," she said pleasantly. "Please go on."
"Senor Alvarez was shot at the German Embassy Ball last night," Mr.
Grimm told her.
Miss Thorne nodded, as if in wonder.
"Did you, or did you not, shoot him?"
It was quite casual. She received the question without change of
countenance, but involuntarily she caught her breath. It might have
been a sigh of relief.
"Why do you come to me with such a query?" she asked in turn.
"I beg your pardon," interposed Mr. Grimm steadily. "Did you, or did you
not, shoot him?"
"No, of course I didn't shoot him," was the reply. If there was any
emotion in the tone it was merely impatience. "Why do you come to me?"
she repeated.
"Why do I come to you?" Mr. Grimm echoed the question, while his
listless eyes rested on her face. "I will be absolutely frank, as I feel
sure you would be under the same circumstances." He paused a moment; she
nodded. "Well, immediately after the shooting you ran along the hallway
with a revolver in your hand; you ran down the steps into the kitchen,
and out through the back door, where you entered an automobile.
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