England, an authoress who is travelling about
with Mrs. Harland in Falconer's car."

"Ah! Mrs. Harland's out of the running. And that Miss Dene's gone East. I
happened to see her start, yesterday. She had a collection of people
giving her a send-off. Of course, she could have employed some one else to
do the job, and keep out of the way herself. But--I guess we must look
further. Now see here, Mr. Hilliard, a patient has got to be frank with
his doctor if the doctor's to do any good. Are you engaged to marry Mrs.
Gaylor, the widow of my old client?"

"Good Lord, no!" exclaimed Nick, scarlet to his forehead. "Such an idea
never entered my head."

"Humph! Rumour's wrong, then. But that isn't to say it never entered her
head. Does she know Mrs. May?"

"No," said Nick. "Surely you're not hinting----"

"I'm not hinting anything. I'm feeling my way in the dark."

"It isn't quite dark. You've got the paper that was round the box. I saw
you looking at it, through a magnifying glass, just now."

"That postmark means the longest way round that we can take. Do you think
any one with an ounce of brains would send poison from a place where
she--or he, if you like--was known? No. She--or he--would go a long way,
and a roundabout way. Or send a trusted messenger. Tell me straight, Mr.
Hilliard, has Mrs. Gaylor got in her employ a confidential maid, or man?"

Nick, distressed and embarrassed, angry with the detective, yet unwilling
to offend and put him off his work, knew not what to answer. There was
Simeon Harp, of course, who would do anything for Carmen. But Nick could
not, would not, play into Wisler's hands by mentioning the name of Harp,
or telling of the old man's doglike devotion to his mistress. It was a
detestable and vulgar suggestion which connected Mrs. Gaylor with this
affair--detestable for every one concerned; for Carmen, for Nick; above
all, for Angela.

"Mrs. Gaylor hasn't a servant who isn't loyal," he returned at last,
evading Wisler's eye. "But you'd better get this notion out of your mind,
to start with, or you'll find yourself on the wrong track. Mrs. Gaylor and
I are good friends, no more. She doesn't know anything about Mrs. May; and
if she did, there's nothing to make her jealous, even if--if we were
warmer friends than we are."

"Sure she never heard of the lady?"

Nick hesitated. "I don't see how she can have heard. I haven't written to
her since I--met Mrs. May."

"Ah, you haven't written to