this morning," he said. "As you see, the bed had not been slept in.
Indeed, Mrs. Lester was fully dressed. My belief is that she was
pounced on the instant she entered the room-- probably to retire for
the night-- strangled before she could utter a sound, and flung here
when dead."

Again Theydon was aware of the subtle, penetrating, and not wholly
unpleasing scent which Furneaux had attributed to the burning of a
joss stick, but his mind was focused on the detective's words, which
suggested a queer discrepancy between certain vague possibilities
already flitting through his brain and the terrible drama as it
presented itself to a skilled criminologist.

"But," he said, almost protestingly, "from what I have seen of Mrs.
Lester she was a strong and active woman. It is inconceivable that the
man who came here last night could have murdered her while I was
writing two brief notes. I am positive he did not remain five minutes,
and Bates or I, or both of us, must have heard some trampling of feet,
some indications of a struggle. Moreover, you think she was about to
retire. Doesn't that opinion conflict with the known facts?"

"What known facts?"

"Well-- or-- those I have mentioned. The brief visit, the open nature
of the arrival and departure, the posting of a letter, which, by the
way, may have been written in his presence."

"It was."

Theydon positively jumped. He would not be surprised now if Forbes's