Rumsey quietly sat down in a chair away from the table.
"Now, Fay," said Mme. Storey.
The girl raised her gentle eyes in an imploring and reproachful glance upon her friend. "Oh, Rosika, how can you?" she murmured.
Mme. Storey's face was like a mask. "I must do my duty as I see it. Answer my question, please."
Fay put a hand over her eyes. "That was the night of the first showing of 'Ashes of Roses'," she murmured. "I did not go. I was not well. I went to bed when Mamma went out."
"But you got up again," said Mme. Storey remorselessly. "I have a report from the garage where you keep your cars, stating that you telephoned for the convertible at 8.10 that night, and that it was handed over to you at the door of your hotel five minutes later. It was returned to the garage at half-past te
