o gentlemen."

"Don't go for a moment, please," Sir Timothy begged, as she showed signs
of departure. "Listen. I want to make a suggestion to you. There is an
impression abroad that I was interested in the two young men, Victor
Bidlake and Fairfax, and that I knew something of their quarrel.
You were an intimate friend of young Bidlake's and presumably in his
confidence. It occurs to me, therefore, that Mr. Shopland might very
well have visited you in search of information, linking me up with that
unfortunate affair. Hence your little note to me."

Miss Hyslop rose to her feet. She had the appearance of being very angry
indeed.

"Do you mean to insinuate--" she began.

"Madam, I insinuate nothing," Sir Timothy interrupted sternly. "I only
desire to suggest this. You are a young lady whose manner of living, I
gather, is to a certain extent precarious. It must have seemed to you a
likelier source of profit to withhold any information you might have to
give at the solicitation of a rich man, than to give it free gratis and
for nothing to a detective. Now am I right?"

Miss Hyslop turned towards the door. She had the air of a person who had
been entirely misunderstood.

"I wrote you out of kindness, Sir Timothy," she said in an aggrieved
manner. "I shall have nothing more to say on the matter--to you, at any
rate."

Sir Timothy sighed.

"You see," he said, turning to the others, "I have lost my chance of
conciliating a witness. My cheque-book remains locked up and she has
gone over to your side."

She turned around suddenly.

"You know that you made Bobby Fairfax kill Victor!" she almost shouted.

Sir Timothy smiled in triumph.

"My dear young lady," he begged, "let us now be friends again. I desired
to know your trump card. For that reason I fear that I have been a
little brutal. Now please don't hurry away. You have shot your bolt.
Already Mr. Shopland is turning the thing over in his mind. Was I
lurking outside that night, Mr. Shopland, to guide that young man's
flabby arm? He scarcely seemed man enough for a murderer, did he, when
he sat quaking on that stool in Soto's Bar while Mr. Ledsam tortured
him? I beg you again not to hurry, Miss Hyslop. At any rate wait while
my servants fetch you a taxi. It was clouding over when I came in. We
may even have a thunderstorm."

"I want to get out of this house," Daisy Hyslop declared. "I think you
are all horrible. Mr. Ledsam did behave like a gentleman when he c