"It is not a mistake," he insisted; "neither is it a lie. When
I became aware that you must have written the letter, I drove at
once to Jessum to see if you had gone to London, as you had
posted it there. I learned from the station master and from a
porter that you went to town by the seven o'clock train and
returned by the midnight."
Mrs. Jasher leaped to her feet.
"They could not recognize me. I wore--" Then she stopped,
confused at having so plainly betrayed herself.
"You wore a veil. All the same, Mrs. Jasher, you are too well
known hereabouts for anyone to fail to recognize you. Besides,
your remark just now proves that I am right. You wrote this
blackmailing letter, and I demand an explanation."
"I have none to give," muttered the woman fiercely, and fighting
every inch.
"If you refuse to explain to me you shall to the police," said
Sir Frank, rising and making for the door.
Mrs. Jasher flung herself forward and clung to him.
"For God's sake, don't!"
"Then you will explain? You will tell me?"
"Tell you what?"
"Who murdered Sidney Bolton."
"I do not know. I swear I do not know," she cried feverishly.
"That is ridiculous," said Random coldly. "You say in this
letter that you can hang me or save me.
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