"I really don't remember very much, Mr. Monk," she apologized. "It was very-unpleasant. At first I tried to forget it. Maybe you cannot understand that, and I daresay I am to blame-but I did not realize…" She stopped.

"It is quite natural," he assured her with more sincerity than she could know. "We all try to forget what hurts us. It is sometimes the only way we can continue."

Her eyes widened in sudden surprise and a faint flush touched her cheeks.

"How sensitive of you." There was profound gratitude in her face, but no easing of the tension which gripped her.

"What can you tell me about it, Miss Gillespie?" he asked again.

Julia made as if to speak, then with an effort changed her mind. Monk realized she was some ten or twelve years older than her sister and felt a fierce sense of protection toward her.

Marianne looked down at her small square hands clenched in the lap of her enormous skirt.

"I don't know who it was," she said very quietly.

"We know that, dear," Julia said quickly, leaning forward a little. "That is what Mr. Monk is here to find out. Just tell him what you know-what you told me."

"He won't be able to find out," Marianne protested. "How could he, when I don't know myself? Anyway, you cannot undo it, even if you did know. What good will it do?" Her face was set in utter determination. "I'm not going to accuse anyone."

"Of course not!" Julia agreed. "That would be terrible for you. Quite unthinkable. But there are other ways. I shall see that he never comes near you again, or any other decent young woman. Please just answer Mr. Monk's questions, dear. It is an offense which cannot be allowed to happen. It would be quite wrong of us to continue as if it did not matter."

"Where were you when it happened, Miss Gillespie?" Monk interrupted. He did not want to be drawn into the argument as to what action could be taken if they discovered the man. That was for them. They knew the consequences far better than he.