to know what, if any, special importance is attached to this
subject of yellow roses."

"I'm not able to tell you," replied Mr. Monroe. "I asked these
questions at the instigation of another, who doubtless has some
good reason for them, which he will explain in due time."

Mr. Porter seemed satisfied with this, and I nodded my head at
the coroner, as if bidding him to proceed.

But if I had been surprised before at the all but spoken
intelligence which passed between the two servants, Elsa and
Louis, I was more amazed now. They shot rapid glances at each
other, which were evidently full of meaning to themselves. Elsa
was deathly white, her lips trembled, and she looked at the
Frenchman as if in terror of her life. But though he glanced at
her meaningly, now and then, Louis's anxiety seemed to me to be
more for Florence Lloyd than for her maid.

But now the coroner was talking very gravely to Miss Lloyd.

"Do you corroborate," he was saying, "the statements of your maid
about the flowers that were sent you last evening?"

"I do," she replied.

"From whom did they come?"

"From Mr. Hall."