Closing his notebook, he thrust it into his pocket, and replaced his
fountain-pen in the little leather wallet.

"Of course," said the solicitor, rising in turn, and adjusting the
troublesome pince-nez, "there was some intrigue with Leroux? So much is
evident."

"You will be thinking that, eh?"

"My dear Inspector"--Mr. Debnam, the wily, was seeking information--"my
dear Inspector, Leroux's own wife was absent in Paris--quite a safe
distance; and Mrs. Vernon (now proven to be a woman conducting a love
intrigue) is found dead under most compromising circumstances--MOST
compromising circumstances--in his flat! His servants, even, are got
safely out of the way for the evening"...

"Quite so," said Dunbar, shortly, "quite so, Mr. Debnam." He opened the
door. "Might I see the late Mrs. Vernon's maid?"

"She is at her home. As I told you, Mrs. Vernon habitually released her
for the period of these absences."

The notebook reappeared.

"The young woman's address?"

"You can get it from the housekeeper. Is there anything else you wish to
know?"

"Nothing beyond that, thank you."