alization that he had brought it all on
himself, were too much for him. He was a broker and one of the most
prominent financiers in the city, but with the divorce fiasco and the
death of Mrs. Armstrong, he began to brood. He shunned the friends who
were left to him, neglected his business and ultimately failed.
Sinking lower and lower in the scale of things, he finally disappeared
from Illington. You can understand now why I thought it best when you
told me of the conversation you had overheard in the library here a
few hours before your father's death, and of the mention of Herbert
Armstrong's name, to trace him and find out if it was he who had come
in the heart of the night and attempted to blackmail Mr. Lawton."

"I understand. That was why you wanted me to hear his voice yesterday
and see if I recognized it. But it was not at all like that of the man
in the library on the night of my father's death. And do you know, Mr.
Blaine"--she leaned forward and spoke in still lower tones--"when I
recall that voice, it seems to me, sometimes, that I have heard it
before. There was a certain timbre in it which was oddly familiar. It
is as if some one I knew had spoken, but in tones disguised by rage
and passion. I shall recognize that voice when I hear it again, if it
holds that same note; and when I do--"

Blaine darted a swift glance at her from under narrowed brows. "But
why attribute so much importance to it?" he asked. "To be sure, it may
have some bearing upon our investigation, although at present I can
see no connecting link. You feel, perhaps, that the violent emotions
superinduced by that secret interview, added to your father's
heart-trouble, indirectly caused his death?"

Anita again sank back in her chair.

"I don't know, Mr. Blaine. I cannot explain it, even to myself, but I
feel instinctively that that interview was of greater significance
than any one has considered, as yet."

"That we must leave to the future." The detective took her hand, and
this time Anita rose and walked slowly with him toward the door.
"There are matters of greater moment to be investigated now. Remember
my advice. Try to be patient. Yours is the hardest task of all, to sit
idly by and wait for events to shape themselves, or for me to shape
them, but it must be. If you can calm your nerves and obtain a few
hours' sleep you will feel your own brave self again when I report to
you, as I shall do, later to-day."

Despite his night of