ch stood in a tin holder on the table. "Do you notice the spots of
black wax on the candlestick?"

Duvall took the candlestick up and looked at it. There were large
splashes of sealing wax all over the bottom of the tin tray, not minute
spots, such as might have been made by the dropping of bits of the hot
wax in making a seal, but circular splotches half an inch or more in
diameter, as though a great quantity of the material had been melted.

"What do you make of it?" Duvall asked.

"I don't know. Looks as though she had melted up the whole stick, for
some reason or other. Possibly to destroy it."

"Hardly that. It would have been far easier to have simply thrown it out
of the window. And besides, the mere possession of a stick of sealing
wax, black or otherwise, could not be regarded as evidence. This woman
is smart, very smart and shrewd. She did not melt that wax up for
nothing. I think I have an idea of her purpose, although I cannot, of
course, be sure, yet. Did you find some coffee?"

"Yes. I'll have it ready very soon. What do you make of this woman's
attitude?"

"It is simple enough. She believes that she can bluff this thing out
without it being possible to prove her the author of the letters. And
she may be right. Certainly, unless Miss Morton can identify her, or we
can discover the death's-head seal in her possession, she stands a very
good chance of getting away scot free."

The coffee which Grace presently brought in was drunk by the whole party
in silence. Duvall seemed unusually preoccupied. His eyes scarcely left
Miss Norman; he appeared to be studying her, watching her every movement
with extraordinary interest, although he strove, by assuming a careless
indifference, to disguise his scrutiny. Grace, who knew his methods,
realized that the sealing wax in the candlestick had suggested some clue
to him, which he was trying his best to work out.

At about seven o'clock Leary was sent out to fetch some breakfast. By
half past eight they were ready to go to see Mrs. Morton.

Before doing so, Duvall thought it wise to call the latter up and make
arrangements about their coming. He presently got Mrs. Morton on the
wire.

"Good morning, Mrs. Morton. How is your daughter?" he asked.

"Much better," the reply came. "Very much better. I am going to take her
back to the apartment at once."

"The apartment?"

"Yes. She will be more comfortable there, and safer, too, I think. We
came here on your ad