"And what did Mrs. Hillmer mean by kicking up that fuss when we spoke to her?" interpolated White. "I'll take my oath that some one was killed in her house, else how comes it that a woman found in the Thames at Putney is carrying about in her head some of Mrs. Hillmer's ironwork? I wish she hadn't fainted just now. Why, she said herself that she was the cause of Lady Dyke's death, and here is Lady Dyke writing to say she is alive. This business is beyond me, but Mrs. Hillmer has got to explain a good deal yet before I am done with her." The detective's wrath at this check in the hunt after a criminal did not appeal to the baronet. "You can please yourself, Mr. White, of course," he said coldly; "but so far as I am concerned, I will respect my wife's wishes, and let the matter rest where it is." "My dear fellow," said the barrister, "such a course is impossible. Assuming that her ladyship is really alive, why did she leave you?" "How can I tell? She herself refuses to give a reason. She apparently stated one in a letter which never reached me, as you know. She has selfishly caused me a world of suffering and misery for three long months. I refuse to be plagued in the matter further." Sir Charles was excited and angry. He was in bitter revolt against circumstances. "Do you intend to show this letter to Lady Dyke's relatives?" asked Bruce, at a loss for the time to discuss the situation coherently. "I do not know. What would you advise? I trust fully to your judgment. But is it not better to obey her wishes?--to forget, as she puts it?" "We must decide nothing hastily. I am perplexed beyond endurance by this business. There is so much that is wildly impossible in its irreconcilable features. I must have time. Will you give me a copy of the letter?" "Certainly, keep it yourself. We have all seen it." "Thank you." Bruce placed the envelope and its contents in his pocket-book. Then, turning to the detective, he said: "Now, Mr. White, do me a favor. Do not worry Mrs. Hillmer until you hear from me." "By all means, Mr. Bruce. But am I to report to the Commissioner that Lady Dyke has been found, or has, at any rate, explained that she is not dead?" "There is no immediate necessity why a report of any kind should be made." "None." "Then leave matters where they are at present." "But why," put in Sir Charles. "Is it not better to end all inquiries, at least so far as my wife is concerned? It is her desire, and, I may add, my own, now that I know something of her fate." "Of course, if you wish it, Dyke, I have no valid objection." "Oh, no, no. Do not look at it in that way. I leave the ultimate decision entirely to you." "In that case, I recommend complete silence in all quarters at present." The detective left them, and as he passed out into Victoria Street his philosophy could find but one comprehensive dictum. "This _is_ a rum go," he muttered, unconsciously plagiarizing himself on many previous occasions.