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Sydney Barnes came a step nearer, but Wrayson pushed him once more roughly away. "You are feeling better?" he asked kindly. She nodded, and struggled up into a sitting posture. "Tell me," she said, "how did he die? It must have been quite sudden. Was it an accident? or or " He saw the terror in her eyes, and he spoke quickly.
"That's just what she won't do," Wrayson explained. "That's just why I've come to you. I I Colonel, I'm fond of her. I never expected to feel like it about any woman." The Colonel nodded sympathetically. "And although it may sound conceited to say so," Wrayson continued, "I believe no! I'm sure that she's fond of me. She's admitted it. There!" The Colonel smiled understandingly.
She was apparently undecided whether to go in or not. Wrayson prayed then, if he had never prayed before. He didn't know to whom! He was simply conscious of an intense desire, which seemed somehow formulated into an appeal. Before he was fully conscious of it, she was coming down the steps.
"I know absolutely nothing," he said, "beyond what I have told you." The Colonel struck a match and relit his cigar. "I should like to understand," he said quietly, "why you avoided all mention of her in your evidence." Wrayson laughed oddly. "I should like to understand that myself," he declared. "I can only repeat what I said before. She was a woman, and I was a fool."
"I should doubt it very much," he answered. "For my part, I don't believe for a moment that he is an Englishman at all." "I am very glad to hear you say so," Wrayson declared. "But the question is, if he is not on this business, what the devil is he doing here?" "Have you the entree to the chateau?" Duncan asked abruptly. "I am invited to dine there this evening," Wrayson answered.
At the entrance, Wrayson whistled for a cab and handed Agnes in. Sydney Barnes attempted to follow her. "I will see my sister-in-law home," he declared; but Wrayson's hand fell upon his arm. "No!" he said. "Mrs. Barnes can take care of herself. She is not to be interfered with." She nodded back at him from the cab. "I don't want him," she said. "I don't want any one.
Wrayson shook his head. "I meant to," he declared, "but another engagement's turned up. No! I don't want to play pool, Mason. Can't stop. Colonel, do me a favour." The Colonel, who was always ready to do any one a favour, signified his willingness promptly enough. But even then Wrayson hesitated. "I want to talk to you for a few minutes," he said, "without all these fellows round.
Across a great hall, whose white stone floor, height, and stained-glass windows gave Wrayson the impression that he had found his way by mistake into the nave of a cathedral, he was ushered into a drawing-room, whose modernity and comparatively low ceiling were almost a relief.
I acted upon the supposition that no one had seen your sister leave the flat except myself. I found afterwards that I was mistaken!" The Baron leaned forward. "One moment, Mr. Wrayson," he interrupted. "You have said that there are people in London who are trying to solve the mystery of Barnes' death. Who are they?"
Wrayson, who had been afraid of dismissal, turned at once, almost eagerly, towards the Baroness. She smiled at him graciously. Louise hesitated for a moment. There was no smile upon her lips. She bowed, however, to the inevitable. "This is Mr. Wrayson," she said quietly; "the Baroness de Sturm." The Baroness raised her eyebrows, and she bestowed upon Wrayson a comprehending look.
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