the street outside. Laverick sent out for a paper. The account of
the inquest was brief enough, and there were no witnesses called
except the men who had found the dead body. The nature of the
wounds was explained to the jury, also the impossibility of their
having been self-inflicted. In the absence of any police evidence
or any identification, the discussion as to the manner of the death
was naturally limited. The jury contented themselves by bringing
in a verdict of "Wilful murder against some person or persons
unknown." Laverick laid down the paper. The completion of the
inquest was at least the first definite step toward safety. The
question now before him was what to do with that twenty thousand
pounds. He sat at his desk, looking into vacancy. After all, had
he paid too great a price? The millstone was gone from around his
neck, something new and incomprehensible had crept into his life.
Yet for a background there was always this secret knowledge.

A clerk announcing Mademoiselle Idiale broke in upon his reflections.
Laverick rose from his seat to greet his visitor. She was
wonderfully dressed, as usual, yet with the utmost simplicity, - a
white serge gown with a large black hat, but a gown that seemed to
have been moulded on to her slim, faultless figure. She brought with
her a musical rustle, a slight suggestion of subtle perfumes - a
perfume so thin and ethereal that it was unrecognizable except in its
faint suggestion of hothouse flowers. She held out her hand to
Laverick, who placed for her at once an easy-chair.

"This is indeed an honor, Mademoiselle."

She inclined her head graciously.