CHAPTER 11DAPHNE LAKE rose slowly to her feet, and brought her light up until its beam outlined the dark face of Richard Wyndham, smiling bitterly at her.
“Hairdresser or thief?” he said quietly. The cruel scorn in his voice cut like a whip.
She stiffened, and her breath came in quick audible starts. But she was silent.
Richard Wyndham took a step forward so that he was standing close to her, his light full in her face. His face was dark with contempt and anger. With a sudden movement he seized her wrist. Her light flew out of her hand, leaving the man only a cool derisive voice in the dark.
“Where’s my aunt’s will?” he said suddenly.
I saw her lithe body start with the pain of his pressure on her hand. Still she said nothing.
“Who paid you to steal it?” he said savagely, between his
