out of the
window. There were two men in the courtyard. One, I think, had hurt
himself very badly. I never discovered what happened."

"They must have been workmen, I should think," said Jean, "or else they
were drunk. Personally, I have never liked taking furnished flats," she
went on. "One always breaks things, and there's such a big bill to pay
at the end. And then I always lose the keys. One usually has two or
three. You should be very careful about that, my dear, they make an
enormous charge for lost keys," she prattled on.

"I think the house agent gave me three," said Lydia. She walked to her
little secretaire, opened it and pulled out a drawer.

"Yes, three," she said, "there is one here, one I carry, and Mrs. Morgan
has one."

"Have you seen Jack Glover lately?"

Jean never pursued an enquiry too far, by so much as one syllable.

"No, I haven't seen him," smiled Lydia, "You weren't a good prophet."

"I expect he is busy," said the girl carelessly. "I think I could like
Jack awfully--if he hadn't such a passion for ordering people about. How
careless of me!" She had tipped over her teacup and its contents were
running across the little tea table. She pulled out her handkerchief
quickly and tried to stop the flow.

"Oh, please, please don't spoil your beautiful handkerchief," said
Lydia, rising hurriedly, "I will get a duster."

She ran out of the room and was back almost immediately, to find Jean
standing with her back to the secretaire examining the ruins of her late
handkerchief with a smile.

"Let me put your handkerchief in water or it will be stained," said
Lydia, putting out her hand.

"I would rather do it myself," laughed Jean Briggerland, and pushed the
handkerchief into her bag.

There were many reasons why Lydia should not handle that flimsy piece of
cambric and lace, the most important of which was the key which Jean had
taken from the secretaire in Lydia's absence, and had rolled inside the
tea-stained handkerchief.

A few days later Mr. Bertram John Glover interviewed a high official at
Scotland Yard, and the interview was not a particularly satisfactory one
to the lawyer. It might have been worse, had not the police commissioner
been a friend of Jack's partner.

The official listened patiently whilst the lawyer, with professional
skill, marshalled all his facts, attaching to them the suspicions which
had matured to convictions.

"I have sat in this chair for twenty-five years,"