Christie was silent for a moment, a queer, pondering frown on her face.

“I don’t think so,” she said in a low voice. “Everyone said so; but I don’t believe it. I think it had begun long before that. It wasn’t she who did it.”

These last words were hardly audible.

Wolf pressed her.

“Who did it, then?”

Christie looked at him gravely.

“Do you believe in spirits?” she asked.

He laughed a little.

“Oh, no more than in anything else!” he said.