Then he glanced up and his eyes met hers squarely. A flicker, it might have been of astonishment, crossed his face, only to be instantly suppressed. She met his look with sedate indifference, and two little vertical lines wrinkled his brow as he studied her. Suddenly his face cleared. He smiled⁠—the frank, open smile of a boy.

“I’ll take any statement from this lady, myself, Green,” he said. “You get back to the station and get on with your transcription. I want that all through by tonight.”

The fat stenographer collected his papers and left. Labar’s fingers fiddled idly on the table. “You are Miss Noelson?” he asked.

She nodded. “That is my name.”

“I understand that you have been away to Hampshire with Mrs. Gertstein, and only returned this morning.”