“Before I talk to the lawyers or detectives who will doubtless soon infest the house, I want to straighten out my own ideas.”

“I don’t see how you can have any,” said Kitty; “I mean, of course, any definite ideas about who committed the murder.”

“I haven’t really definite ones, but I want you to help me get some.”

“Well,” said Kitty, looking provokingly lovely in her serious endeavor to be helpful, “let’s sit down here and talk it over.”

“Here” was a sort of a rustic arbor, which was a delightful place for a tête-à-tête, but not at all conducive to deep thought or profound conversation.

“Go on,” said Kitty, pursing her red lips and puckering her white brow in her determination to supply the help that was required of her.