Mme. Storey finally put down the mirror. "Is that better, Walter?" she asked with a wicked smile.
He puffed out his cheeks.
"I'm waiting to hear you," she said, putting away the make-up.
"It's a confidential matter," he rejoined glancing at me.
"Miss Brickley knows all about the Poor case," she said carelessly. "You needn't mind her."
"Well, what happened?" he asked sullenly.
"Nothing much."
"Did you get a confession from the girl?"
"No; I managed to forestall it."
His jaw dropped. "What do you mean?"
"She was just on the point of making a confession when I sent her back to you."
"Will you be so good as to explain yourself?"
"A confession would simply have puffed you up, Walter, and obstructed the ends of justice. Because she didn't kill Ashcomb Poor."
"I suppose you had your
