Harley drew out his watch, glanced at the face, and returned the
timepiece to his pocket. "I have warned you," he said. "In exactly three
minutes' time I shall put you under arrest."

The girl suddenly lifted her veil and, raising her face, looked up at
him. At last he had broken down her obstinate resistance. Already he had
noted the coarse, elemental formation of her hands, and now, the veil
removed, he saw that she belonged to a type of character often found
in Wales and closely duplicated in certain parts of London. There was
a curious flatness of feature and prominence of upper jaw singularly
reminiscent of the primitive Briton. Withal the girl was not
unprepossessing in her coarse way. Utter stupidity and dogged courage
are the outstanding characteristics of this type. But fear of the law is
strong within them.

"Don't arrest me," she said. "I'll tell you."

"Good. In the first place, then, where were you going when I came here?"

"To meet my boy at Vauxhall Station."

"What is his name?"

"I'm not going to tell you. What's he done?"

"He has done murder. What is his name?"

"My God!" whispered the girl, and her face blanched swiftly. "Murder!
I--I can't tell you his name--"

"You mean you won't?"

She did not answer.

"He is a very dark man," continued Harley "with black eyes. He is a
Hindu."

The girl stared straight before her, dumbly.

"Answer me!" shouted Harley.

"Yes--yes! He is a foreigner."

"A Hindu?"

"I think so."

"He was here five minutes ago?"

"Yes."

"Where was he going to take you?"

"I don't know. He said he could put me in a good job out of London. We
had only ten minutes to catch the train. He's gone to get the tickets."

"Where did you meet him?"

"In the Green Park."

"When?"

"About a month ago."

"Was he going to marry you?"

"Yes."

"What did you do to the serviettes on the night Sir Charles died?"

"Oh, my God! I didn't do anything to hurt him--I didn't do anything to
hurt him!"

"Answer me."

"Sidney--"

"Oh, he called himself Sidney, did he? It isn't his name. But go on."

"He asked me to get one of the serviettes, with the ring, and to lend it
to him."

"You did this?"

"Yes. But he brought it back."

"When?"

"The afternoon--"

"Before Sir Charles's death? Yes. Go on. What did he tell you to do with
this serviette?"

"It--was in a box. He said I was not to open the box until I put the
serviette on the table, and that it had to