“An’ ses she to me, she ses,” went on the girl, indifferent to her grandmother’s interruption, “‘Get me some paper an’ a pencil, an’ I’ll write a note to ‘im, I will.’  So I goes an’ gits ’er what she arsks fur out of gran’s box.”

“Stole it, cuss ye,” shrieked the old hag, shaking her fist.

“Hold your tongue,” said Kilsip, in a peremptory tone.

Mother Guttersnipe burst into a volley of oaths, and having run rapidly through all she knew, subsided into a sulky silence.

“She wrote on it,” went on Sal, “an’ then arsked me to take it to the Melbourne Club an’ give it to ’im.  Ses I, ’Who’s ‘im?’ Ses she, ’It’s on the letter; don’t you arsk no questions an’ you won’t ’ear no lies, but give it to ‘im at the Club, an’ wait for ’im at the corner of Bourke Street and Russell Street.’  So out I goes, and gives it to a cove at the Club, an’ then ‘e comes along, an’ ses ’e, ’Take me to ‘er,’ and I tooked ’im.”

“And what like was the gentleman?”

“Oh, werry good lookin’,” said Sal.  “Werry tall, with yeller ‘air an’ moustache.  He ‘ad party clothes on, an’ a masher coat, an’ a soft ’at.”

“That’s Fitzgerald right enough,” muttered Calton.  “And what did he do when he came?”

“He goes right up to ’er, and she ses, ’Are you ‘e?’ and ’e ses, ‘I am.’  Then ses she, ‘Do you know what I’m a-goin’ to tell you?’ an’ ’e says, ‘No.’  Then she ses, ’It’s about ‘er;’ and ses ‘e, lookin’ very white, ’’Ow dare you ’ave ‘er name on your vile lips?’ an’ she gits up an’ screeches, ‘Turn that gal out, an’ I’ll tell you;’ an’ ’e takes me by the arm, an’ ses ’e, ‘’Ere git out,’ an’ I gits out, an’ that’s all I knows.”

“And how long was he with her?” asked Calton, who had been listening attentively.

“’Bout arf-a-hour,” answered Sal.  “I takes ’im back to Russell Street ’bout twenty-five minutes to two, ’cause I looked at the clock on the Post Office, an’ ‘e gives me a sov., an’ then he goes a-tearin’ up the street like anything.”

“Take him about twenty minutes to walk to East Melbourne,” said Calton to himself “So he must just have got in at the time Mrs. Sampson said.  He was in with the ‘Queen’ the whole time, I suppose?” he asked, looking keenly at Sal.

“I was at that door,” said Sal, pointing to it, “an’ ’e couldn’t ’ave got out unless I’d seen ’im.”

“Oh, it’s all right,” said Calton, nodding to Kilsip, “there won’t be any difficulty in proving an alibi.  But I say,” he added, turning to Sal, “what were they talking about?”

“I dunno,” answered Sal.  “I was at the door, an’ they talks that quiet I couldn’t ’ear ’em.  Then he sings out, ‘My G—­, it’s too horrible!’ an’ I ’ear ‘er a larfin’ like to bust, an’ then ’e comes to me, and ses, quite wild like, ’Take me out of this ‘ell!’ an’ I tooked ’im.”

“And when you came back?”

“She was dead.”

“Dead?” “As a blessed door-nail,” said Sal, cheerfully.