his right arm and stretch it
behind him, while he leans forward for the imaginary dagger. What does
that mean?"

"I should find it hard to say. But I did not see him do that. When I
came upon him, he was thrusting with his left hand across his own
body--a vicious thrust and with his left hand. That is a point, Mr.
Gryce."

"Yes, especially as the doctors agree that Mr. Adams was killed by a
left-handed blow."

"You don't say! Don't you see the difficulty, then?"

"The difficulty, madam?"

"Bartow was standing face to face with the assailant. In imitating him,
especially in his unreasoning state of mind, he would lift the arm
opposite to the one whose action he mimics, which, in this case, would
be the assailant's right. Try, for the moment, to mimic my actions. See!
I lift this hand, and instinctively (nay, I detected the movement, sir,
quickly as you remembered yourself), you raise the one directly opposite
to it. It is like seeing yourself in a mirror. You turn your head to the
right, but your image turns to the left."

Mr. Gryce's laugh rang out in spite of himself. He was not often caught
napping, but this woman exercised a species of fascination upon him at
times, and it rather amused than offended him, when he was obliged to
acknowledge himself defeated.

"Very good! You have proved your point quite satisfactorily; but what
conclusions are to be drawn from it? That the man was not left-handed,
or that he was not standing in the place you have assigned to him?"

"Shall we go against the doctors? They say that the blow was a
left-handed one. Mr. Gryce, I would give anything for an hour spent with
you in Mr. Adams's study, with Bartow free to move about at his will. I
think we would learn more by watching him for a short space of time than
in talking as we are doing for an hour."

It was said tentatively, almost timidly. Miss Butterworth had some sense
of the temerity involved in this suggestion even if, according to her
own declaration, she had no curiosity. "I don't want to be
disagreeable," she smiled.

She was so far from being so that Mr. Gryce was taken unawares, and for
once in his life became impulsive.

"I think it can be managed, madam; that is, after the funeral. There are
too many officials now in the house, and----"

"Of course, of course," she acceded. "I should not think of obtruding
myself at present. But the case is so interesting, and my connection
with it so peculiar, that I sometim