Byrnes looked at Nick for an explanation.

“This is an extraordinary statement, Mr. Hammond,” said Nick.  “Have you any evidence to support it?”

“I have ample evidence.  I was seen in the company of the woman now dead, not fifty yards from the restaurant on the night when she met her death.  I can call one of the most prominent and respected men in this city to prove that.  The Rev. Elliot Sandford is the man.”

This name produced a great impression.

“Why has he kept silence?” asked Nick.

“He promised me that he would do so as long as his conscience would permit.  I called upon him on the morning after the crime.

“He believed me when I asserted my innocence.  He agreed to be silent for the sake of my family.”

“But who is the dead woman?” asked Nick.

“I have not the least idea.”

“You did not know her!”

“No.  Let me tell the full story.  It was a chance acquaintance.  I met her on the street that afternoon.

“I was walking behind her on Twenty-third street.  You know what wonderful hair she had.  I was admiring it.

“Suddenly I saw her drop a little purse.  I picked it up and handed it to her, and somehow we fell into conversation.

“Her manner mystified me.  Sometimes she seemed to be laboring under some secret grief which nearly drove her to tears.  In another moment she would be apparently as merry as a schoolgirl.

“She showed no reserve whatever, but something in her manner warned me that she was a lady, and I did not presume upon her confidence.

“We walked together a long while, and at last we found ourselves near that restaurant.  How we came there I do not know.  I paid no attention to where we were going.  T was too much fascinated by my companion.

“Suddenly she said:  ‘It is late and I am hungry.  Let us go to dinner.’

“I thought it a strange thing to say, but I was glad enough to comply.  We went into that restaurant because it was right before us.

“I signed the first name that came into my head, and then Corbut showed us into the private dining-room.

“I ordered a dinner, but before it was served, I began to be a good deal surprised at my companion’s behavior.  She paced up and down the room, and every now and then she listened at the door which was between us and room A.

“‘I have all a woman’s curiosity,’ she said, ’I’d like to hear what those people are saying over their dinner.’

“I tried to make her sit down, and playfully took hold of her.  Then I made a discovery which frightened me.

“The woman had a pistol in her pocket.

“Suddenly she turned upon me and exclaimed: 

“’What shall we do after dinner?  I’ll tell you what I’d like.  I want to go to the theater.  Let’s see something real funny.  Yes, I must go.  You run out now and get the tickets.  There’s a place just down the street where they’re sold.  You can get back before your dinner is cold.’