accidents may happen."

"You have distressed me immeasurably," said the girl, striving to pierce
the mask of that inscrutable face.

"I meant to," answered Furneaux quietly. "No half measures for me.
I've looked up the asylum record of Mrs. Siddle, senior, and it's not
nice reading."

"There was a Mrs. Siddle, junior, then?"

"A Mrs. Theodore Siddle, if one adopts the conventional usage. Yes. She
died last month."

"Last month!" gasped Doris, feeling vaguely that she was moving in a maze
of deceit and subterfuge.

"On May 25th, to be precise. She lived apart from her husband. I have
reason to believe she feared him."

"Yet--"

She hesitated, hardly able to put her jumbled thoughts into words.

"Yes. That's so," said the detective instantly. "Never mind. It's a
fairly decent world, taken _en bloc_. I ought to speak with authority. I
see enough of the seamy side of it, goodness knows. Now, forewarned is
forearmed. Don't be nervous. Don't take risks. Everything will come right
in time. Remember, I'm not far away in an emergency. Should I chance to
be absent if you need advice, send for Mr. Franklin. You can easily