chair and again adjusting his pince-nez, in the manner of a man having
important matters--and gloomy, very gloomy, matters--to communicate.

"Good!" said the inspector, and prepared to listen.

"You see," continued Debnam, "the late Mrs. Vernon was not actually
residing with her husband at the date of his death."

"Indeed!"

"Ostensibly"--the solicitor shook a lean forefinger at his
vis-a-vis--"ostensibly, Inspector, she was visiting her sister in
Scotland."

Inspector Dunbar sat up very straight, his brows drawn down over the
tawny eyes.

"These visits were of frequent occurrence, and usually of about a
week's duration. Mr. Vernon, my late client, a man--I'll not deny it--of
inconstant affections (you understand me, Inspector?), did not greatly
concern himself with his wife's movements. She belonged to a smart
Bohemian set, and--to use a popular figure of speech--burnt the candle
at both ends; late dances, night clubs, bridge parties, and other
feverish pursuits, possibly taken up as a result of the--shall I say
cooling?--of her husband's affections"...

"There was another woman in the case?"

"I fear so, Inspector; in fact, I am sure of it: but to return to Mrs.
Vernon. My client provided her with ample funds; and I, myself, have