"You don't understand." "Then why don't you enlighten me ?" he flashed.
She stood mute, her face drawn in an expression of pain.
"What enlightenment can I offer ?" she asked weakly.
Britz's eyes narrowed on her, fixed themselves on her troubled countenance in a cold, scrutinizing stare.
"Who killed Herbert Whitmore ?" he shot at her.
The question had the effect of a pistol report.

She trembled, her color changed from pale to crimson, she pressed her hand to her heart as if to moderate its pulsations.

Before she recovered from the violence of the emotions suddenly aroused in her, Luckstone had come to her assistance.
"Why do you ask that ?" he demanded.

"A moment ago you practically accused this lady of murder.

Are you seeking incriminating admissions?
Or are you simply on a fishing expedition ?" "I am trying to ascertain the truth," said Britz.
Luckstone turned toward the woman.
"As your attorney I instruct you not to answer this man's questions." "And as one who has no other desire than to serve the ends of justice, I urge you to disregard your lawyer's advice," Britz appealed to her.
Between these conflicting forces she stood helpless, aware only of the danger which hung over her.