"I have some details here. Our police system is, I think, a little
more complete than yours in England. Helene Vauquier has served
Mme. Dauvray for seven years. She has been the confidential friend
rather than the maid. And mark this, M. Wethermill! During those
seven years how many opportunities has she had of conniving at
last night's crime? She was found chloroformed and bound. There is
no doubt that she was chloroformed. Upon that point Dr. Peytin is
quite, quite certain. He saw her before she recovered
consciousness. She was violently sick on awakening. She sank again
into unconsciousness. She is only now in a natural sleep. Besides
those people, there is Mlle. Celie. Of her, monsieur, nothing is
known. You yourself know nothing of her. She comes suddenly to Aix
as the companion of Mme. Dauvray--a young and pretty English girl.
How did she become the companion of Mme. Dauvray?"

Wethermill stirred uneasily in his seat. His face flushed. To Mr.
Ricardo that had been from the beginning the most interesting
problem of the case. Was he to have the answer now?

"I do not know," answered Wethermill, with some hesitation, and
then it seemed that he was at once ashamed of his hesitation. His
accent gathered strength, and in a low but ringing voice, he
added: "But I say this. You have told me, M. Hanaud, of women who
looked innocent and were guilty. But you know also of women and
girls who can live untainted and unspoilt amidst surroundings
which are suspicious."

Hanaud listened, but he neither agreed nor denied. He took up a
second slip of paper.