nox."

As the proprietor walked out of the office and upstairs to the second
floor Harley whispered in my ear:

"Where did she go?"

"No. ---- Hamilton Place," I replied in an undertone.

"Good God!" muttered my friend, and clutched my arm so tightly that I
winced. "Good God! The master touch, Knox! This crime was the work of a
genius--of a genius with slightly, very slightly, oblique eyes."

Opening a door on the second landing, Mr. Meyer admitted us to a small
supper-room. Its furniture consisted of a round dining table, several
chairs, a couch, and very little else. I observed, however, that the
furniture, carpet, and a few other appointments were of a character
much more elegant than those of the public room below. A window which
overlooked the street was open, so that the plush curtains which had
been drawn aside moved slightly to and fro in the draught.

"The window of the tragedy, Knox," explained Harley.

He crossed the room.

"If you will stand here beside me you will see the gap in the railing
caused by the breaking away of the fragment which now lies on Mr.
Meyer's desk. Some few yards to the left in the street below is where
the assault took place, of which we have heard, and the unfortunate
Mr. De Lana, who was dining here alone--an eccentric custom of
his--naturally ran to the window upon hearing the disturbance and leaned
out, supporting his weight upon the railing. The rail collapsed, and--we
know the rest."

"It will ruin me," groaned Meyer; "it will give bad repute to my
establishment."

"I fear it will," agreed Harley sympathetically, "unless we can manage
to clear up one or two little difficulties which I have observed.
For instance"--he tapped the proprietor on the shoulder
confidentially--"have you any idea, any hazy idea, of the identity of
the woman who was dining here with Mr. De Lana on Wednesday night?"

The effect of this simple inquiry upon the proprietor was phenomenal.
His fat yellow face assumed a sort of leaden hue, and his already
prominent eyes protruded abnormally. He licked his lips.

"I tell you--already I tell you," he muttered, "that Mr. De Lana he
engage this room every Wednesday and sometimes also Friday, and dine
here by himself."

"And I tell you," said Harley sweetly, "that you are an inspired liar.
You smuggled her out by the side entrance after the accident."

"The side entrance?" muttered Meyer. "The side entrance?"

"Exactly; the side entrance. There is