"Nonsense. You are in no way concerned save to shield your sister, and no one credits her wild statements regarding her complicity in this crime." "Look here, my dear fellow, I have come to ask you if this investigation cannot be allowed to rest. It means a lot of misery that you cannot foretell or prevent. Knowing what I do, I cannot believe that Lady Dyke was murdered." "Knowing what I do, I cannot accept any other conclusion. A worthy and estimable lady leaves her home suddenly, without the slightest imaginary cause, and she is found in the Thames with a piece of iron driven into her brain, while the medical evidence is clear that death was not due to drowning. What other inference can be drawn than that she was foully done to death?" "Heaven help me, I cannot tell. Yet I appeal to you to let matters rest where they are if it is possible." "It is not possible. I cannot control the police. I am merely a private agent acting on my own responsibility and on behalf of Lady Dyke's relatives." "Don't misunderstand me, Bruce. I am not asking this thing on account of my sister or myself." "On whose account, then?" Mensmore did not answer for a moment. He looked mournfully into the fire for inspiration. "Perhaps I had better tell you," he said, "that I have broken off my engagement with Miss Browne." The other jumped from his chair. "What the dickens do you mean?" he cried. "Exactly what I have said. When we met on Monday night, I did not mention that Sir William and Lady Browne and their daughter travelled back to England with us. On Tuesday I saw Phyllis. In view of the shadow thrown on me by this frightful charge I thought it my duty to release her from any ties. If my sister has to figure in a court of law as a principal, or accomplice, in a murder case--and possibly myself with her--I could not consent to associate my poor Phyllis's name with mine. So I took the plunge." "You are a beastly idiot," shouted Bruce. "If I had the power I would give you six months' hard labor this moment. Who ever threatened to put you or your sister in the dock?" "You have done your best that way, you know." "I?--I have shielded you throughout!" "I feel that. But your admission shows that I am right. Shielded us from what? From arrest by the police, of course." "But why take this precipitate action? What has Lady Dyke's death to do with your marriage to Miss Browne?" "That's it, Bruce. I cannot explain. I must endure silently." "Did you give her any reason for your absurd resolution?" "Yes. I could have no secrets from her." "Did you inflict all this wretched story on a woman you loved and hoped to marry?" "You may be as bitter as you like. That is my idea of square dealing, at any rate. What other pretext could I invite for--for giving her up?" Mensmore found it hard to utter the words. In his heart Bruce pitied him, though he raged at this lamentable issue of the only bright passage in the whole story of death and intrigue.