THE SECOND MURDER It had been very evident to Allerdyke that ever since Fullaway had mentioned the matter of the missing maid, Celia Lennard had become a victim to doubt, suspicion, and uncertainty.

Her colour came and went; her eyes began to show signs of tears; her voice shook.

And now, at the American's direct question, she wrung her hands with an almost despairing gesture.
"But I can't!" she exclaimed.

"I don't know her address--how should I?
It's somewhere in London--Bloomsbury, I think--but even then I don't know if that's where her mother lives, to whom she said she was going.

I did know her address--I mean I remembered it for a while, at the time I engaged her--a year ago, but I've forgotten it.