‘Beg pardon, sir?’ asked the sergeant, evidently mystified. Obviously he is still interested. Besides, she will do no such thing. Ennison roused himself with an effort, took a long drink from his whisky and soda, and lit a cigarette. She could feel Michelle’s nervousness leaching into her spine. She sat drawn together in her chair in the corner of the box, at a loss what to say or do—afraid, curious, perplexed. She did not have to investigate that his door was locked. "I opened the padlock with this crooked nail, which I found in the floor.
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