ry intelligence it would
be impossible to play such a trick as that."

"I don't know about that," said the Duke thoughtfully. "I think it
would have required an uncommon fool to discover that trick."

"What on earth do you mean? Why?" said Guerchard.

"Because it's so wonderfully simple," said the Duke. "And at the same
time it's such infernal cheek."

"There's something in that," said Guerchard grumpily. "But then, I'm
always saying to my men, 'Suspect everything; suspect everybody;
suspect, suspect, suspect.' I tell you, your Grace, that there is only
one motto for the successful detective, and that is that one word,
'suspect.'"

"It can't be a very comfortable business, then," said the Duke. "But I
suppose it has its charms."

"Oh, one gets used to the disagreeable part," said Guerchard.

The telephone bell rang; and he rose and went to it. He put the
receiver to his ear and said, "Yes; it's I--Chief-Inspector Guerchard."

He turned and said to the Duke, "It's the gardener at Charmerace, your
Grace."

"Is it?" said the Duke indifferently.

Guerchard turned to the telephone. "Are you there?" he said. "Can you
hear me clearly? ... I want to know who was in your hot-house yesterday
... who could have gathered some of your pink salvias?"

"I told you that it was I," said the Duke.

"Yes, yes, I know," said Guerchard. And he turned again to the
telephone. "Yes, yesterday," he said. "Nobody else? ... No one but the
Duke of Charmerace? ... Are you sure?... quite sure?... absolutely
sure? ... Yes, that's all I wanted to know ... thank you."

He turned to the Duke and said, "Did you hear that, your Grace? The
gardener says that you were the only person in his hot-houses
yesterday, the only person who could have plucked any pink salvias."

"Does he?" said the Duke carelessly.

Guerchard looked at him, his brow knitted in a faint, pondering frown.
Then the door opened, and Bonavent came in: "I've been through
Victoire's room," he said, "and all I could find that might be of any
use is this--a prayer-book. It was on her dressing-table just as she
left it. The inspector hadn't touched it."

"What about it?" said Guerchard, taking the prayer-book.

"There's a photograph in it," said Bonavent. "It may come in useful
when we circulate her description; for I suppose we shall try to get
hold of Victoire."

Guerchard took the photograph from the prayer-book and looked at it:
"It looks about ten years old," he sai