up and she was there, on the staircase to the
third floor, watching us. I did not know, then, whether she recognized
me or not, for the Wellses' servants were as oblivious of the families
on the street as their employers. But she knew Sperry, and was ready
enough to talk to him.

"How is she now?" she asked.

"She is sleeping, Mademoiselle."

"The children also."

She came down the stairs, a lean young Frenchwoman in a dark dressing
gown, and Sperry suggested that she too should have an opiate.
She seized at the idea, but Sperry did not go down at once for his
professional bag.

"You were not here when it occurred, Mademoiselle?" he inquired.

"No, doctor. I had been out for a walk." She clasped her hands. "When I
came back--"

"Was he still on the floor of the dressing-room when you came in?"

"But yes. Of course. She was alone. She could not lift him."

"I see," Sperry said thoughtfully. "No, I daresay she couldn't. Was the
revolver on the floor also?"

"Yes, doctor. I myself picked it up."

To Sperry she showed, I observed, a slight deference, but when she
glanced at me, as she did after each reply, I thought her expression
slightly altered. At the time this puzzled me, but it was explained when
Sperry started down the stairs.

"Monsieur is of the police?" she asked, with a Frenchwoman's timid
respect for the constabulary.

I hesitated before I answered. I am a truthful man, and I hate
unnecessary lying. But I ask consideration of the circumstances. Neither
then nor at any time later was the solving of the Wells mystery the
prime motive behind the course I laid out and consistently followed. I
felt that we might be on the verge of some great psychic discovery, one
which would revolutionize human thought and to a certain extent human
action. And toward that end I was prepared to go to almost any length.

"I am making a few investigations," I told her. "You say Mrs. Wells was
alone in the house, except for her husband?"

"The children."

"Mr. Wells was shaving, I believe, when the--er--impulse overtook him?"

There was no doubt as to her surprise. "Shaving? I think not."

"What sort of razor did he ordinarily use?"

"A safety razor always. At least I have never seen any others around."

"There is a case of old-fashioned razors in the bathroom."

She glanced toward the room and shrugged her shoulders. "Possibly he
used others. I have not seen any."

"It was you, I suppose, who cleaned up afte