."

She pressed my hand and ran lightly out.

Maillot now came over to where I was standing. He was very pale, his
face was drawn with lines of suffering (more for Miss Belle than on his
own account, beyond doubt), but his manner was quite composed. In
fact, his demeanor was more subdued--chastened, as it were--than I had
seen it at any time during our brief acquaintance.

"Well, it's over," he remarked bitterly.

"Don't be an ass," I returned. "If you are innocent, nothing worse can
happen."

He smiled whimsically, quickly taking me up.

"And if guilty, the worst is yet to come, eh? Well, at any rate, I 'm
your prisoner."

"Not necessarily mine," I said.

"By preference. I can't stand for those roughneck cops, and Stodger as
a custodian is a joke. I 'd be too strongly tempted to dump him into
the first handy snow-drift, and cut loose. I don't suppose you 'll
insist on any rot about handcuffs and all that sort of thing?"

Notwithstanding his pretence of humorous indifference, there was a
question in his tone, and he peered at me a bit anxiously. I grinned.

"I don't know," I said. "I won't take any chances on being dumped into
a snow-drift."

"Rot! You know I could n't if I wanted to."

"Mr. Fluette could have helped you, Maillot."

I looked at him narrowly. He shrugged his shoulders, merely, and
produced and lighted a cigarette.

"Let's go," he said, flipping the match away.

Stodger was left on guard at the Page place. My prisoner and I walked
to a car and proceeded to police headquarters.

His attitude, naturally enough, was one of extreme dejection;
nevertheless I tried to cheer him up--vainly--and when opportunity
offered I also tried to get some light upon the ring episode.

"It does n't do for me to express an opinion one way or another as to
your probable guilt or innocence, Maillot," I said at one time; "but I
can tell you this much for your encouragement.

"Since the murder, several developments have turned up which convince
me that there 's a deal more in the crime than either you or I can at
present conceive. You can keep it in mind that I see more work ahead
than I did immediately after quizzing you and Burke Wednesday morning.
. . . By the way, that ring you slipped upon your finger this morning,
whose is it?"

For a second he frowned with an air of trying to recall the incident.
Suddenly his face cleared.

"Did you notice that?" he returned, with perfect composure.