before I saw you. She rushed out into the garden. She flung
herself on to a bench. She could not sit still. She was
hysterical. You know what that means. She had been losing. That's
point number one."

Mr. Ricardo ticked it off upon his finger.

"She ran back into the rooms. You asked her to share the winnings
of your bank. She consented eagerly. And you lost. That's point
number two. A little later, as she was going away, you asked her
whether she would be in the rooms the next night--yesterday night-
-the night when the murder was committed. Her face clouded over.
She hesitated. She became more than grave. There was a distinct
impression as though she shrank from the contemplation of what it
was proposed she should do on the next night. And then she
answered you, 'No, we have other plans.' That's number three." And
Mr. Ricardo ticked off his third point.

"Now," he asked, "do you still ask me to launch Hanaud upon the
case?"

"Yes, and at once," cried Wethermill.

Ricardo called for his hat and his stick.

"You know where Hanaud is staying?" he asked.

"Yes," replied Wethermill, and he led Ricardo to an unpretentious
little hotel in the centre of the town. Ricardo sent in his name,
and the two visitors were immediately shown into a small sitting-