And Mr. Barry Kirk.”

“How do you do,” said the girl, in a low voice.

“I wanted to talk with you - I’m from the district attorney’s office,” Miss Morrow added.

The girl stared at her, an even more startled expression in her eyes. “Ye-es,” she said uncertainly.

“Sit down, please.” Kirk drew up a chair.

“You know, of course, of the murder that took place on your floor of the building last night?” Miss Morrow went on.

“Of course,” replied the girl, her voice barely audible.

“You were working last night in your office?”

“Yes - it’s the first of the month, you know. I always have extra work at this time.”

“At what hour did you leave the building?”

“I think it was about ten fifteen. I’m not sure. But I went away without knowing anything of - of this - terrible affair.”

“Yes. Did you see any strangers about the building last night?”

“No one. No one at all.” Her voice was suddenly louder.

“Tell me” - Miss Morrow looked at her keenly - “had you ever met Sir Frederic Bruce?”

“No - I had never met him.”

“You had never met him. Please think what you are saying. You didn’t meet him night before last - when you visited him in his office?”

The girl started. “Oh - I saw him then, of course. I thought you meant - had I been introduced to him.”

“Then you did go into his office night before last?”

“I went into Mr. Kirk’s office. There was a big man, with a mustache, sitting in the second room. I presume it was Sir Frederic Bruce.”

“You presume?”

“Well - of course I know now it was. I saw his picture in this morning’s paper.”

“He was alone in the office when you went in?”

“Yes.”

“Was he the person you went there to see?”

“No, he was not.”

“When you left the office, you burst into tears.” Again the girl started, and her face flushed. “Was it seeing Sir Frederic made you do that?”

“Oh, no,” cried Miss Barr, with more spirit.

“Then what was it made you cry?”

“It was - a purely personal matter. Surely I needn’t go into it?”

“I’m afraid you must,” Miss Morrow told her. “This is a serious affair, you know.”

The girl hesitated. “Well - I -“

“Tell me all that happened night before last.”

“Well - it wasn’t seeing Sir Frederic made me cry,” the girl began. “It was - not seeing some one else.”

“Not seeing some one else? Please explain that.”

“Very well.” The girl moved impulsively toward Miss Morrow. “I can tell you. I’m sure you will understand. Mr. Kinsey, Mr. Kirk’s secretary, and I - we are - well - sort of engaged. Every night Mr. Kinsey waits for me, and we have dinner. Then he takes me home. Day before yesterday we had a little quarrel - just over some silly thing - you know how it is -“

“I can imagine,” said Miss Morrow solemnly.

“It was about nothing, really.