in this room, where I am told Manderson spent a great deal of his time,
and in his bedroom; especially the bedroom. But since we're in this
room, let's start here. You seem to be at the same stage of the inquiry.
Perhaps you've done the bedroom already?"

The inspector nodded. "I've been through Manderson's and his wife's.
Nothing to be got there, I think. Very simple and bare, no signs of any
sort--that _I_ could see. Seems to have insisted on the simple life,
does Manderson. Never employed a valet. The room's almost like a cell,
except for the clothes and shoes. You'll find it all exactly as I found
it; and they tell me that's exactly as Manderson left it at we don't
know what o'clock yesterday morning. Opens into Mrs. Manderson's
bedroom--not much of the cell about that, I can tell you. I should say
the lady was as fond of pretty things as most. But she cleared out of it
on the morning of the discovery--told the maid she could never sleep in
a room opening into her murdered husband's room. Very natural feeling in
a woman, Mr. Trent. She's camping out, so to say, in one of the spare
bedrooms now."

"Come, my friend," Trent was saying to himself, as he made a few notes
in his little book. "Have you got your eye on Mrs. Manderson? Or haven't
you? I know that colorless tone of the inspectorial voice. I wish I had
seen her. Either you've got something against her and you don't want me
to get hold of it; or else you've made up your mind she's innocent, but
have no objection to my wasting my time over her. Well, it's all in the
game; which begins to look extremely interesting as we go on." To Mr.
Murch he said aloud: "Well, I'll draw the bedroom later on. What about
this?"

"They call it the library," said the inspector. "Manderson used to do
his writing and that in here; passed most of the time he spent indoors
here. Since he and his wife ceased to hit it off together, he had taken
to spending his evenings alone, and when at this house he always spent
'em in here. He was last seen alive, as far as the servants are
concerned, in this room."

Trent rose and glanced again through the papers set out on the table.
"Business letters and documents, mostly," said Mr. Murch. "Reports,
prospectuses, and that. A few letters on private matters, nothing in
them that I can see. The American secretary--Bunner his name is, and a
queerer card I never saw turned--he's been through this desk with me
this morning. He had got it into his h