"My dear doctor," began White.
"It is an outrage," said the doctor. "It is disgraceful, Mr. White. I will vouch for Miss Cresswell with my life."
The girl stopped him with a laugh.
"Please don't be dramatic, doctor. It's really a stupid mistake. I didn't know you knew Mr. White."
"It is a disgraceful mistake," said the doctor violently. "I am surprised at you, White."
Mr. White could not close his eyes any tighter than they were closed. He passed the responsibility for the situation upon an invisible Providence with one heaving shrug of his shoulders.
"It is awfully kind of you to take this interest, doctor," said the girl, putting out her hands to him, "it was just like you."
"Is there anything I can do?" he asked earnestly. "You can depend upon me to the last shilling if any trouble arises out of this."
"No trouble will arise out of it," she said. "Mr. White thinks that I have stolen money and that that money is hidden in the flat—by the way, who told you that I had been accused?"
For a moment he was taken aback; then:
"I saw the police officers go into your flat. I recognized them, and as they were accompanied by White, and you had been dismissed this morning, I drew my own conclusions."
It was at this moment that the detective came back from the bedroom.
"There's nothing there," he said.
Mr. White opened his eyes to their fullest extent.
"In the bottom drawer of the bureau?" he asked incredulously.
"Neither in the bottom drawer nor the top drawer," said the detective. "Have you found anything, Fred?"
"Nothing," said the other man.
"Have a look behind those pictures."
They turned up the corners of the carpets, searched her one little bookcase, looked under the tables, an unneces-
