He did not know that the detectives had taken away a few scraps of
torn paper thrown carelessly into the grate and had carefully gathered
up a tiny snake-like curl of white ash from the tiled hearth, which,
on analysis, would probably prove to be the remains of the joss stick.

Forbes gazed at the impression on the side of the bed as though the
body of the woman whom he had last seen in full possession of her
grace and beauty were still lying there. The vision seemed to affect
him profoundly. He did not speak for fully a minute, and, when speech
came, his voice was low and strained.

"Tell me everything you know," he said. "The Scotland Yard men took an
unusual step in admitting you to their conclave. They must have had
some motive. Tell me what they said, their very words, if you can
recall them."

Theydon was uncomfortably aware of a strange compulsion to obey. His
commonplace, everyday senses cried out in revolt, and warned him that
he was tampering dangerously with matters which should be left to the
cold scrutiny of the law, but some subconscious instinct overpowered
these prudent monitors, and he gave an almost exact account of his
talk with Winter and Furneaux.

Then followed questions, eager, searching, almost uncanny in their
prescience.

"The little one-- who strikes me as having more brains than I credit
the ordinary London policeman with-- spoke of the evil deities of
China. How did such an extraordinary topic crop up?"