New Britain herald., 1927-09-29

cedure-if the headlines in our great moral dailies are to be cred ited. I always thought that the moment a crime was committed the police began arresting people promiscuously-to maintain the ex citement. don't y know Another illusion gone. Sad, sad" he murmured. T sha'n't forgive our Heath: he has betrayed my faith in him"
 At this point Markham's secre- tary came 10 the door and an- nounced the arrival of Miss St, Clair.
 I think we were all taken a little aback at the spectacle presented by this young woman as she came slowly into the room with a firm graceful step, and with her head held slightly to one side in an atti- tude of supercilious inquiry.
 She was small and strikingly pretty, although pretty is not ex- actly the word with which to de- scribe her. She possessed that faintly exotic beauty that we find in the portraits of the Carracci, who sweetened the severity of Leon ardo and made 1t at once intimate and decadent.
 Her eyes were dark and widely spaced; her nose was delicate and straight. and her forehead broad Her full sensuous lips were almost sculpturesque in their linear pre- cision. and her mouth wore an cngmatc smile, or hint of a smile Her rounded firm chin was bit heavy when examined apart from the other features, but not in the ensemble.
 There was poise and certain strength of character in her bear ties of powerful emotions beneath her exterior calm. Her clothes har- monized with her personality; they were quiet and apparently in the conventional style, but touch of color and originality here and there conferred on them a fascinating distinction.
 Markham rose and. lowing with formal courtesy, indicated a com fortable upholstered chair directly in front of his desk
 With barely perceptible nod, she glanced at the chair. and then seated herself in a straight armless chair standing next to it.
 You won't mind. I'm sure" she said. If I choose my own chair for the inquisition.'
 Her voice was low and resonant the speaking voice of the highly trained singer. She smiled as she spoke, but it was not a cordial smile: it was cold and distant, yet somehow indicative of levity.
 Miss St. Clair" began Markham in tone of polite severity, the murder of Mir. Alvin Benson has intimately involved yourself. Be fore taking any definite steps. have invited you here to ask you few questions. l can, therefore, advise you quite honestly that frankness will best serve your ln- terests.'
 He paused. and the woman looked at him with an ironically questioning gaze.
 Am I supposed to thank you for your generous advice?
 Markham's scowl deepened as he glanced down at typewriter page on his desk.
 You are probably aware that your gloves and handbag were found in Mir. Bensons house the morning after he was shot"
 T can understand how you might haze traced the handbag to me" she said: but how did you arrive at the conclusion that the gloves were mine?'
 Markham looked up sharply.
 DO you mean to say the gloves are not yours?'
 "Oh, no." She gave him another wintry smile. T merely wondered , how you knew they belonged to me, | since you couldn't have known l either my taste in gloves or the 1 size l wore" 1
 "They're your gloves. then?"
 If they are Trefousse, size five | and d-three-quarters, of white kid and i elbow length. they are certainly 1 mine. And I'd so like to have them oI-
 I'm sorry" said Markham; but ! it is necessary that I keep them for the present.
 She dismissed the matter with a