nothing was talked about but the murder, and the mystery in which it
was shrouded. When the ladies retired they chatted about it in the
drawingroom, but finally dropped it for more agreeable subjects. The
men, however, when the cloth Was removed, filled their glasses, and
continued the discussion with unabated vigour. Brian alone did not take
part in the conversation. He sat moodily staring at his untasted wine,
wrapped in a brown study.

"What I can't make out," observed Rolleston, who was amusing himself
with cracking nuts, "is why they did not find out who he was before."

"That is not hard to answer," said Frettlby, filling his--glass. "He
was comparatively little known here, as he had been out from England
such a short time, and I fancy that this was the only house at which he
visited."

"And look here, Rolleston," said Calton, who was sitting near
him, "if you were to find a man dead in a hansom cab, dressed in
evening clothes--which nine men out of ten are in the habit of wearing
in the evening--no cards in his pockets, and no name on his linen, I
rather think you would find it hard to discover who he was. I consider
it reflects great credit on the police for finding out so quickly."

"Puts one in mind of 'The Leavenworth Case,' and all that sort of
thing," said Felix, whose reading was of the lightest description.
"Awfully exciting, like putting a Chinese puzzle together. Gad, I
wouldn't mind being a detective myself."

"I'm afraid if that were the case," said Mr. Frettlby, with an amused
smile, "criminals would be pretty safe."