erned in them but that she was also the
sort of woman who likes to have more than one man in leash. He was now
disposed to think that there had been love-passages between her and
Wallingford, and not only between her and Wallingford but between her
and Wellesley--there might, after all, be something in the jealousy
idea. But then came in the curious episode of Mrs. Mallett, and the
mystery attaching to it--as things presented themselves at present there
seemed to be no chance whatever that either Mrs. Mallett or Wellesley
would lift the veil on what was evidently a secret between them. The
only satisfactory and straightforward feature about yesterday's
proceedings, he thought, was the testimony of Mrs. Bunning as to her
unguarded door. Now, at any rate, it was a sure thing that there had
been ready means of access to the Mayor's Parlour that evening; what was
necessary was to discover who it was that had taken advantage of them.

After breakfast Brent went round to see Hawthwaite. Hawthwaite gave him
a chair and eyed him expectantly.

"We don't seem to be going very fast ahead," remarked Brent.

"Mr. Brent," exclaimed Hawthwaite, "I assure you we're doing all we can!
But did you ever know a more puzzling case? Between you and me, I'm not
at all convinced about either Dr. Wellesley or Mrs. Mallett--there's a
mystery there which I can't make out. They may have said truth, and they
mayn't, and----"

"Cut them out," interrupted Brent. "For the time being anyway. We got
some direct evidence yesterday--for the first time."

"As--how?" questioned Hawthwaite.

"That door into Bunning's room," replied Brent. "That's where the
murderer slipped in."

"Ay; but did he?" said Hawthwaite. "If one could be certain----"

"Look here!" asserted Brent. "There is one thing that is certain--dead
certain. That handkerchief!"

"Well?" asked Hawthwaite.

"That should be followed up, more," continued Brent. "There's no doubt
whatever that that handkerchief, which Wellesley admits is his, got sent
by mistake to one or other of Mrs. Marriner's other customers. That's
flat! Now, you can trace it."

"How?" exclaimed Hawthwaite. "A small article like that!"

"It can be done, with patience," said Brent. "It's got to be done. That
handkerchief got into somebody's hands. That somebody is probably the
murderer. As to how it can be traced--well, I suggest this. As far as
I'm conversant with laundry matters, families, such as Mrs. Marriner
s