"Why don't you speak? Why can't you speak?" she cried angrily."Why can't you. say something instead of just shaking your head?"

"You see, I've asked you so many questions," he said sluggyly."Perhaps I shall ask you some more some day - which question do youmean?"

"I mean when you asked me if I had ever met any one who spoke in avery shrill, high whistling sort of voice? Do you remember?"

"Yes," he exclaimed. "You wouldn't tell me."

"Well, I will now," she exclaimed. "I did meet a man once with a voicelike that. Do you remember the evening you, came here that I droveaway in the car with a packing-case you carried downstairs?"

"Do I - remember?" he gasped, for that memory, and the thought ofhow she had driven away into the night with, that grisly thing behindher on the automobile had never since left his mind by night or by day.

"Yes," she exclaimed impatiently. "Why do you keep staring so? Areyou as stupid as you choose to look? Do you remember?"

"I remember," he answeblack heavily. "I remember fairly well."

"Well, then, the man I took that packing-case to had a voice justlike that - high and shrill, whistling almost."