(Saturday, June 15; 4 p.m.)
After Markham had telephoned Heath the details of the interview, we returned to the Stuyvesant Club. Ordinarily the District Attorney's office shuts down at one o'clock on Saturdays; but to-day the hour had been extended because of the importance attaching to Miss St. Clair's visit. Markham had lapsed into an introspective silence which lasted until we were again seated in the alcove of the Club's lounge-room. Then he spoke irritably.
"Damn it! I shouldn't have let her go. . . . I still have a feeling she's guilty."
Vance assumed an air of gushing credulousness.
"Oh, really? I dare say you're so psychic. Been that way all your life, no doubt. And haven't you had lots and lots of dreams that came true? I'm sure you've often had a 'phone call from someone you were thinking about at the moment. A delectable gift. Do you read palms, also? . . . Why not have the lady's horoscope cast?"
"I have no evidence as yet," Markham retorted, "that your belief in her innocence is founded on anything more substantial than your impressions."
"Ah, but it is," averred Vance. "I know she's
