ight, but a mere coincidence.

Mary had a post-card, too, from Calais; just a few words with the
promise of a letter at the end of the journey. She showed it to me when
I called round at Chelsea on Monday evening to say good-bye once more.
The inquest opened that morning, and was adjourned for a week. Only
formal and preliminary evidence was taken--my own principally; and I was
able to arrange to leave next day. Inspector Freeman made the orthodox
statement that "the police were in possession of a clue which they were
following up;" and I had a chat with him afterwards, and tried to ferret
out about the clue, but he was close as wax.

We parted on the best of terms, and I was certain he did not guess that
my interest in the affair was more than the natural interest of one
who was as personally concerned in it as I was, with the insatiable
curiosity of the journalist superadded. Whatever I had been yesterday,
I was fully master of myself to-day.

Jim was out when I reached Chelsea, somewhat to my relief; and Mary was
alone for once.

She welcomed me cordially, as usual, and commended my improved
appearance.

"I felt upset about you last night, Maurice; you weren't a bit like
yourself. And what on earth did you mean in the drawing-room--about
Anne?" she asked.

"Sheer madness," I said, with a laugh. "Jim made that peg too strong,
and I'm afraid I was--well, a bit screwed. So fire away, if you want to
lecture me; though, on my honor, it was the first drink I'd had all
day!"

I knew by the way she had spoken that Jim had not confided his
suspicions to her. I didn't expect he would.

She accepted my explanation like the good little soul she is.

"I never thought of that. It's not like you, Maurice. But I won't
lecture you this time, though you did scare me! I guess you felt pretty
bad after finding that poor fellow. I felt shuddery enough even at the
thought of it, considering that we knew him, and had all been together
such a little while before. Has the murderer been found yet?"

"Not that I know of. The inquest's adjourned, and I'm off to-morrow.
I'll have to come back if necessary; but I hope it won't be. Any message
for Anne? I shall see her on Wednesday."

"No, only what I've already written: that I hope her father's better,
and that she'd persuade him to come back with her. She was to have
stayed with us all summer, as you know; and I'm not going to send her
trunks on till she writes definitely that she