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Half-past twelve and nothing still. The house is as silent as the grave. One o'clock; two o'clock same silence. Half-past two and something happens at last. Dexter hears a sound close by, in the corridor. It is the sound of a handle turning very softly in a door in the only door that can be opened, the door of Mrs. Beauly's room.

Dexter's many sides were developing themselves at such a rapid rate of progress that they were already beyond my counting. He lifted his head, and fixed a look of keen inquiry on me. "I have come out of Mrs. Beauly's skin," he announced. "And I have arrived at this result: We are two impetuous people; and we have been a little hasty in rushing at a conclusion." He stopped. I said nothing.

Beauly's skin, and to think with Mrs. Beauly's mind. Give me a minute. Thank you." What did he mean? what new transformation of him was passing before my eyes? Was there ever such a puzzle of a man as this?

From what Mr. Dexter said to me, I had imagined " "Oh, you must not believe anything Dexter tells you!" interposed Lady Clarinda. "He delights in mystifying people; and he purposely misled you, I have no doubt. If all that I hear is true, he ought to know more of Helena Beauly's strange freaks and fancies than most people. I shall forget my own name next!

He stopped. His face brightened again, as if some sudden sense of relief had come to him. "I did try to help you," he went on. "I told you that Mrs. Beauly's absence was a device to screen herself from suspicion; I told you that the poison might have been given by Mrs. Beauly's maid. Has reflection convinced you? Do you see something in the idea?" This return to Mrs.

Beauly answered, 'You go first, and look out in front; I will follow you, and make sure there is nobody behind us. With that they disappeared around the corner of the house. In five minutes more I heard the door of Mrs. Beauly's room softly opened and closed again. Three hours later the nurse met her in the corridor, innocently on her way to make inquiries at Mrs. Eustace Macallan's door.

He had not only done all that I had anticipated in the way of falsifying Mr. Playmore's prediction he had actually advanced beyond my limits. I could go the length of recognizing Mrs. Beauly's innocence; but at that point I stopped. If the Defense at the Trial were the right defense, farewell to all hope of asserting my husband's innocence. I held to that hope as I held to my love and my life.

Beauly's maid the objection that the woman had no motive for committing herself to an act of murder. If he could practically contradict this, by discovering a motive which I should be obliged to admit, his end would be gained.

Eustace Macallan looks at her. Even Mrs. Beauly, it seems, has a conscience! Is there nothing to justify suspicion in such circumstances as these circumstances sworn to on the oaths of the witnesses? To me the conclusion is plain. Mrs. Beauly's hand gave that second dose of poison. Admit this; and the inference follows that she also gave the first dose in the early morning. How could she do it?

"Major Fitz-David may do very well for the ladies," he said. "The ladies can treat him as a species of elderly human lap-dog. I don t dine with lap-dogs; I have said, No. You go. He or some of his ladies may be of use to you. Who are the guests? Did he tell you?" "There was a French lady whose name I forget," I said, "and Lady Clarinda " "That will do! She is a friend of Mrs. Beauly's.