Mrs. Clear uttered a cry of astonishment, and turned as if to retreat. But Denzil was between her and the door, so she saw that there was nothing for it but to outface the situation.
As though she found it difficult to breathe, she threw up her veil, and Diana beheld a thin white face with two brilliant black eyes.
"This is a trap," said Mrs. Clear, hoarsely, looking from the one to the other. "Who are you?"
"I," said Lucian, politely, "I am the man who met your husband before——"
"My husband!
I have my husband in an asylum.
You can't have met him!"
"You are telling a falsehood," said Diana fiercely. "The gentleman in the asylum of Dr. Jorce is not your husband, but my father!"
"Your father?
And who are you?"
"I am Diana Vrain."
Mrs. Clear gave a screech, and dropped back on to the sofa, staring at Diana with wide-open and terrified eyes.
"And now, Mrs. Clear, I see you realise the situation," Lucian said coldly. "You must confess your share in this conspiracy."
"What conspiracy?" she interrupted furiously.
"The putting of Mr. Vrain into an asylum, and the passing off of your husband, Michael Clear, as him."
"I don't know anything about it."
"Come, now, you talk nonsense!
If you refuse to speak I'll have you arrested at once."
"Arrest me!" She bounded off the sofa with flashing eyes.
"Yes, on a charge of conspiracy.
It is no use your getting angry, Mrs. Clear, for it won't improve your position.
We—that is, this lady and myself—wish to know, firstly, how your husband came to be masquerading as Mr. Vrain; secondly, where we can find the man called Wrent, who employed your husband; and thirdly, Mrs. Clear, we wish to know, and the law wishes to know, who killed your husband."
"I don't know who killed him," said the woman, looking rather afraid, "but I believe Wrent did."
"Who is Wrent?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know many things," said Diana, taking part in the conversation, "but you must tell us what you do know, otherwise I shall call in a policeman and have you arrested."
"You can't prove anything against me."
"I think I can," said Lucian in the most cheerful manner. "I can prove that you were in No. 13 of this Square, seeing your husband, for I found on the fence dividing the back yard of that house from one in Jersey Street a scrap of a veil such as you wear.
Also the landlady and servant can prove that you called on Mr. Wrent several times, and were with him on the night of the murder.
Then there is the evidence of your cloak, which you left behind, and which Wrent gave to the servant Rhoda.
Also the evidence of Signor Ferruci——"
"Ferruci!
What has he said about me?"
Lucian saw that revenge might make the woman speak, so he lied in the calmest manner to get at the truth.
"Ferruci says that he contrived the whole conspiracy."
"So he did," said Mrs. Clear, with a nod.
"And took you to 'The Haven,' at Hampstead, on Christmas Eve."
"That's true.
He took me from Wrent's house in Jersey Street.
You need not go on, Mr. L.
D.
I admit the whole business."
"You do?" cried Lucian and Diana together.
"Yes, if only to spite that old villain Wrent, who has not paid me the money he promised."
Before Lucian and Miss Vrain could express their pleasure at Mrs. Clear coming to this sensible conclusion, the door opened suddenly, and little Miss Greeb, in a wonderful state of agitation, tripped in.
"Oh, Mr. Denzil!
I've just been to Mrs. Bensusan's, and Rhoda's run away!"
"Run away!"
"Yes!
She hasn't been back all day, and left a note for Mrs. Bensusan saying she was going to hide, because she was afraid."