Tucked away in th' toes
of a pair o' shoes. Webb is in th' library now. Jus' get Miss Kitty."
"Very well," replied Killigrew, leaden-hearted.
Thomas had been busy all day. He was growing very tired, and often now
the point of his pen sputtered. The second man had brought in his
dinner and set it on a small stand which stood at the right of the
desk. It was growing cold on the tray. A sound. He glanced up
wearily. He saw Kitty and Killigrew, and behind them the sardonic
visage of Haggerty. Thomas got up slowly.
"Take it easy, Mr. Webb," warned Haggerty. "Go on, Miss Killigrew, an'
we'll see first if you've hit it."
Thomas stared, wide-eyed, from face to face. What in heaven's name had
happened? What was this blighter of a detective doing at the villa?
And why was Kitty so white?
"Mr. Webb," began Kitty, striving hard to maintain even tones, "on the
night of May 13, you and Lord Henry Monckton stood on the curb outside
my carriage, near the Garden, where I was blockaded in the fog. I
heard your voices. There was talk about a wager.
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