夜雨聆风Well—if she’d been—going about with anyone.”
Melchett shot her a keen glance. He said no more until they were backat his office. Then he began:
“Now, Miss Turner, I want all the information you can give me.”
“Yes, of course. Where shall I begin?”
“I’d like the girl’s full name and address, her relationship to you and allyou know about her.”
Josephine Turner nodded. Melchett was confirmed in his opinion thatshe felt no particular grief. She was shocked and distressed but no more.
She spoke readily enough.
“Her name was Ruby Keene—her professional name, that is. Her realname was Rosy Legge. Her mother was my mother’s cousin. I’ve knownher all my life, but not particularly well, if you know what I mean. I’ve gota lot of cousins—some in business, some on the stage. Ruby was more orless training for a dancer. She had some good engagements last year inpanto and that sort of thing. Not really classy, but good provincial com-panies. Since then she’s been engaged as one of the dancing partners atthe Palais de Danse in Brixwell — South London. It’s a nice respectableplace and they look after the girls well, but there isn’t much money in it.”
She paused.
Colonel Melchett nodded.
“Now this is where I come in. I’ve been dance and bridge hostess at theMajestic in Danemouth for three years. It’s a good job, well paid and pleas-ant to do. You look after people when they arrive—size them up, of course—some like to be left alone and others are lonely and want to get into theswing of things. You try to get the right people together for bridge and allthat, and get the young people dancing with each other. It needs a bit oftact and experience.”
Again Melchett nodded. He thought that this girl would be good at herjob; she had a pleasant, friendly way with her and was, he thought,shrewd without being in the least intellectual.
“Besides that,” continued Josie, “I do a couple of exhibition dances everyevening with Raymond. Raymond Starr—he’s the tennis and dancing pro.
