“And sent him that telephone message first,” she struck in, with a touch of scorn. “No, poor Dad was murdered deliberately. Oh, Ted, if only I were a man, and could find out who did it!”

Ted, looking at her clenched hands and tear-filled eyes, felt suddenly the urge of a great resolve. “Ivy, if I were to find out who it was, would you marry me?” he exclaimed impulsively.

Her eyes dropped before his ardent gaze. “Perhaps,” she murmured.

Their further conversation was interrupted by the stately rising of Mrs. Tovey from her chair.

“Come along, Ivy,” she said. “It’s time we were getting along home.”