I turned aside, and walked out across the hall and into the empty study. CHAPTER XXXII PAUL HARLEY’S EXPERIMENT I recognize that whosoever may have taken the trouble to follow my chronicle thus far will be little disposed to suffer any intrusion of my personal affairs at such a point. Therefore I shall pass lightly over the walk back to Cray’s Folly, during which I contrived to learn much about Val Beverley’s personal history but little to advance the investigation which I was there to assist. As I had surmised, Miss Beverley had been amply provided for by her father, and was bound to Madame de Stämer by no other ties than those of friendship and esteem. Very reluctantly I released her, on our returning to the house; for she, perforce, hurried off to Madame’s room, leaving me looking after her in a state of delightful bewilderment, the significance of which I could not disguise from myself. The absurd suspicions of Inspector Aylesbury were forgotten; so was the shadow upon the blind of Colonel Menendez’s study. I only knew that love had come to me, an unbidden guest, to stay for ever. Manoel informed me that a number of pressmen, not to be denied, had taken photographs of the Tudor garden and of the spot where Colonel Menendez had been found, but Pedro, following my instructions, had referred them all to Market Hilton. I was standing in the doorway talking to the man when I heard the drone of Harley’s motor in the avenue, and a moment later he and Wessex stepped out in front of the porch and joined me. I thought that Wessex looked stern and rather confused, but Harley was quite his old self, his keen eyes gleaming humorously, and an expression of geniality upon his tanned features. “Hullo, Knox!” he cried, “any developments?” “Yes,” I said. “Suppose we go up to your room and talk.” “Good enough.” Inspector Wessex nodded without speaking, and the three of us mounted the staircase and entered Paul Harley’s room. Harley seated himself upon the bed and began to load his pipe, whilst Wessex, who seemed very restless, stood staring out of the window. I sat down in the armchair, and: “I have had an interesting interview with Mrs. Camber,” I said. “What?” exclaimed Harley. “Good. Tell us all about it.” Wessex turned, hands clasped behind him, and listened in silence to an account which I gave of my visit to the Guest House. When I had finished: “It seems to me,” said the Inspector, slowly, “that the only doubtful point in the case against Camber is cleared up; namely, his motive.” “It certainly looks like it,” agreed Harley. “But how strangely Mrs. Camber’s story differs from that of Menendez although there are points of contact. I regret, however, that you were unable to settle the most important matter of all.” “You mean whether or not she had visited Cray’s Folly?” “Exactly.” “Then you still consider my theory to be correct?” I asked eagerly.