“And yet, David—­all of that is probably true.”

“Probably—­yes.  But not positively.  We haven’t proved anything.  And once we explode that social bomb—­we’ve started something that she’ll never live down.  We’ve done more than that—­we’ve played the devil with Evelyn’s chance of happiness.  That kid will be in a swell position when the scandal-mongers get hold of the gossip about her sister.  Can’t you hear ’em—­babbling about it being in the blood?”

“But she might prove that none of it is true.”

“That doesn’t make a bit of difference.  Gossip pays no attention to a refutation.  Leave consideration for Mrs. Lawrence out of it altogether—­and figure where Evelyn comes in on the backwash.”

“It is tough.  But this is a murder case—­and, anyway, I don’t think she killed Warren.”

“Even if she didn’t—­I fancy she’d rather be convicted of murder—­than of what this will lead to.  I’m afraid, Leverage.  We’re trifling with something a good deal more sacred than human life.  If Naomi Lawrence is guilty—­there’s no objection to her suffering.  But her kid sister will suffer too—­”

“You don’t think, Carroll—­that she looked like that kind?”

“Good God! no! And even if we prove that she was the woman in the taxicab—­that she was going to elope with Warren—­it still won’t prove that she was that kind.  There’s something about that husband of hers—­meet him, Leverage—­meet him!  That’s the only way you’ll have any understanding of my sympathy for the wife.”

Leverage rose and walked to the window.  He spoke without turning, “Tough—­David; mighty tough.  And we’ve got to do something.”

No answer.  Carroll had lighted a cigarette and was puffing fiercely upon it.  Leverage spoke again softly—­

“Haven’t we?”

“I suppose we have—­”

“Well?”

Another long silence.  “Isn’t there anything we can do, Eric—­before we start something that no human power can stop?  Something to make us sure—­to give us a clincher?  That’s all I ask.  You say I’m cursed with too much of the milk of human kindness.  Perhaps I am—­perhaps that’s what makes me no better detective than I am—­but it’s a trait—­good or bad—­that I’ll never get over.  And until every possible doubt as to that woman’s complicity has been removed, I am opposed to any such course as arrest and public announcement of the reasons therefor.”

Leverage shook his head.  He was disappointed in his friend.  Not that Carroll would flinch from duty—­but Leverage considered it a weakness that Carroll insisted on postponing the inevitable.  He was sorry—­he knew that it had to come:  Naomi’s arrest and the consequent nasty publicity.  His manner, as he addressed Carroll, was that of a man who washes his hands of something—­

“It’s your case, David.  Handle it your own way.  That’s been our agreement always when we worked together—­and I’m game to stick to it now.”