Veronica opened her lips as if to speak and then closed them again and remained silent.  The room was so still that the heavy ticking of the clock sounded like hammer blows on an anvil.  All eyes were on Veronica; the Winnebagos stared, open-mouthed; Sahwah’s blood ran cold in her veins; Agent Sanders leaned forward, the whole force of his personality concentrated in his compelling eyes.

“I didn’t meet anybody,” said Veronica, returning his gaze steadfastly.

“Where did you go, then?”

Veronica was silent.

“Answer me.”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t.”  There was a ring of finality in Veronica’s tone.

Agent Sanders scribbled something more in his little notebook.  Then he renewed his questioning.  “You took that letter to somebody, didn’t you?”

“I did not,” replied Veronica emphatically.  “I told you before, and I repeat it, I know nothing about any letter.  I never saw it, and I never heard of it until you accused me of taking it.”

The agent smiled knowingly.  “To whom did you telephone from this study last night?”

“To a friend of mine.”

“Who?”

Veronica refused to answer that question, calmly defying the agent to make her tell.  Again there was a sensation in the room.  The Winnebagos were ready to drop with astonishment at the strange behavior of Veronica.  Sahwah looked around at the various faces.  Mr. Wing still wore his puzzled, pained expression; the artist seemed to be getting bored; he looked out of the window and his left hand was playing with his ear, pulling down the lobe and releasing it with a jerk, a gesture he was continually making when his hands were idle.  It irritated Sahwah now and made her nervous; she was filled with a desire to tie his hand down so he couldn’t reach his ear.

“That will do,” said Agent Sanders to the Winnebagos, indicating by a gesture that they were to go out of the room.  Sahwah lingered.  She stood up beside Veronica and put her arm around her.  “She didn’t do it!  She didn’t do it!” she said fiercely, facing the three men fearlessly.  “She’s as loyal to this country as you are!”

“Possibly,” said Agent Sanders drily.  “Well, little lady, your faith in your friend is very beautiful to see, but until we find out that someone else took that letter we can’t take much stock in it.”

“I’ll prove to you that she’s all right,” Sahwah proclaimed rashly, and then reluctantly went out of the room.  Her faith in Veronica’s innocence was unshaken.  Veronica herself had said that she did not know anything about the letter, that was enough for Sahwah.  Her friend had spoken, and she never dreamed of doubting her word.

As she went out she saw Mr. Wing rub his hand thoughtfully over his forehead and heard him say, “But hang it, Sanders, you didn’t hear her play last night.  She had us all roused to such a pitch of patriotism that we were ready to go to the front on the next ship.”  The agent said nothing, only went on making notes in his little book.  The artist sprang to open the door for Sahwah, but she took the knob out from under his very hand and passed him with hostile eyes.