"It is impossible!" protested Barry. "I know of facts and conditions which make it possible and probable that an outsider, a--well, a blackmailer, perhaps,--might have attacked my father. This is outside of discovery or proof, but I request,--I demand that you cease to persecute your present suspects!" The boy, for in his passionate tirade he seemed even younger than usual, quivered with the tensity of his emotion and faced the Coroner with a belligerent antagonism that would have been funny in a case less grave. Roberts regarded him with interest. "Some chap!" he thought. "I wonder, now, if he did it himself,--and is trying to scatter the scent. No, I fancy it's his fear for the dolly-baby girl, and he jimmied the door in a foolish attempt to make a noise like a burglar." "Do you know where your father kept his jewels?" asked Lamson, suddenly, and Barry started, as he said, "No, I've no idea. That is, the ones in the house. The others are in deposit with the Black Rock Trust Company." "Who does know the whereabouts of those kept in the house?" But nobody seemed to know. Joyce had said she did not. Barry disclaimed the knowledge. Inquired of, Miller, the valet, did not know. Nor Halpin, the old Butler, nor any of the other servants. It would seem that Eric Stannard had concealed his treasures in a hiding-place known only to himself. An officer was sent to search his personal rooms, and in the meantime Joyce was subjected to a further grilling. Exhausted by the nervous strain, her calm, handsome face was pale and drawn. Wearily, she answered questions that were not always necessary or tactful. At last, when Lamson was trying to draw from her an account of what she was doing or thinking after Courtenay had left her alone in the Billiard Room, she seemed to lose both patience and control, and burst forth, impulsively, "I was listening at the Studio door!" "Ah! And what did you hear?" "I heard my husband say, 'No, no, my lady, I will not divorce Joyce for you!' and then he laughed,--a certain laugh of his that I always called the trouble laugh,--a sarcastic, irritating chuckle, enough to exasperate anybody,--_anybody_, beyond the point of endurance!" The Coroner almost gasped, but fearing to check the flow of speech that promised so much, he said, quietly, "Did you hear anything further?" "I did. I heard him say, 'I'll give you the emeralds, if you like, but I really won't marry you.'" "Your husband was not a cruel man, Mrs. Stannard?" "On the contrary, he was gentleness itself. He was most courteous and gallant toward all, but if any one went counter to his wishes or opinions, he invariably used a good-natured, jeering tone that was most annoying." "And to whom were these remarks that you overheard, addressed?"