you out whatever action we may take afterward."

"But first I should like to ask Mr. Gryce one question," interposed his
assistant. Then addressing the detective: "Two mysteries are involved in
this matter. You have given us a clever explanation of one of them, but
how about the other? Will you, before going further, tell us what
connection you find between the theory just advanced and the flight and
ultimate suicide of Madame Duclos under circumstances which point to a
desire to suppress evidence even at the cost of her life? It was not
from consideration for Mr. Roberts, whom you have shown she hated. What
was it then? Have you an equally ingenious explanation for that too?"

"I have an explanation, but I cannot say that it is altogether
satisfactory. She died but yesterday, and my opportunities have been
small for any work since. What I have learned was from her sister-in-law,
whom I saw this morning. Realizing that she will be obliged to give full
testimony at the inevitable inquest, she is at last ready to acknowledge
that she has been aware for a long time of a secret in Madame's life.
That while she knew nothing of its nature, she had always thought that it
was in some manner connected with her prolonged residence abroad. Whether
it would also explain the meaning of her return at this time and the
seemingly inexplicable change made in her daughter's name while _en
route_, must be left to our judgment. Madame had told her nothing. She
had simply made use of their home, coming and going, not once, but twice,
without giving them the least excuse for her inexplicable conduct. A
hundred questions could not elicit more. But to one who like myself has
had the opportunity of observing this wretched woman at the moment of her
supreme distress an insight is given into her character, which suggests
the only plausible explanation of her action. Her sacrifice was one of
devotion! She perished in an exaltation of feeling. Love drove her to
this desperate act. Not the love of woman for a man, but the love which
women of her profound nature sometimes feel for one of their own sex.
Mrs. Taylor was her friend--wait, I hope to prove it--and to save her
from experiencing the extreme misery of seeing the man who was the joy
as well as bane of her life suffer from the consequences of his own
misdeeds, Antoinette Duclos felt willing to die and did. You smile,
gentlemen. You think the old man is approaching senility. Perhaps I am,
but