"Go on, please, Mr.Tarling." He told her of the bloody thumb-prints upon the door of the bureau.
"On your bed," he went on, "I found your dressing-case, half-packed." She swayed forward, and threw out her hands, groping blindly.
"Oh, how wicked, how wicked!" she wailed "He did it, he did it!" "Who ?" demanded Tarling.
He took the girl by the shoulder and shook her.
"Who was the man?
You must tell me.

Your own life depends upon it.

Don't you see, Odette, I want to help you?
I want to clear your name of this terrible charge.

You suspect somebody.

I must have his name." She shook her head and turned her pathetic face to his.
"I can't tell you," she said in a low voice.