"Spare me the adjectives," said Clarice, coldly.
"I'm sparing you a great deal, I think," said Zara, viciously; "by what right do you thrust yourself into my affairs?"
"Bah! I don't believe that there is such a thing. Certainly, so far as Ferdy is concerned, there isn't brotherly love on his part. He would sell you for a five-pound note."
Clarice felt a pang, for she knew how truly the dancer spoke. "I agree with you there," she replied, sadly.
"My dear, he isn't worth it," said Zara, in a softer tone. "Well?"
"Speak away," said Zara, impatiently; "I'm all attention. What do you want to ask me?"
"About time," interpolated the other woman.
"Oh, I shall dispose of my business very shortly," said Clarice, sharply; "You want to marry Ferdy. To gain your ends, you told Prudence Clarke a lie about her father."
Zara was quite unmoved, and blew smoke through her delicate nostrils. "Prudence has told you, then?"
"Yes. You forced her to send away Ferdy, to save her father."
"I did. I want Ferdy to myself, and I have no particular reason to desire the hanging of Mr. Clarke."
"You couldn't hang him if you tried," retorted Clarice, angrily.
"Oh, yes, I could. Suppose--for the sake of argument--that I went to Inspector Tick, of Crumel, with my story of what I saw."
Zara cast a surprised look at Clarice. "Well, I suppose it is to your interest to decline to believe. Nevertheless, what I told Prudence is true for all that."
"Did you really see Mr. Clarke leave The Laurels at two in the morning?"
Zara threw away her cigarette, and rose quietly.
"I really did," she said, in her most decisive tone. "My mother was ill, and I went out for sal volatile. It was a mere chance, of course, that I should be out on that night of all nights. On any other night--at any other time, even--I should have seen nothing. But the Cosmic Powers, for their own ends, and for my benefit, I presume, brought me abreast of The Laurels, when Mr. Clarke was skipping out of the window."
Clarice was greatly startled. "Do you really believe that Mr. Clarke killed my guardian?"
Zara looked at her swiftly. "Oh, I am not prepared to say that; and I beg to remind you that I am not in the witness-box."
"Which means that you cannot swear to the truth of your story."