"Mr. Roberts, I want to say to you very frankly that I wish to be cleared of suspicion. I did not kill my husband. I can't quite believe Miss Vernon did, but at any rate I want the mystery cleared up. I don't know how to set about it myself, and if you don't either, I want to employ some one else. This is no disparagement of your powers, but if you know of any--more experienced Detective----" "There are plenty of more experienced detectives, Mrs. Stannard, but I am anxious to succeed in this quest myself. Will you not give me a longer time, and if at the end of, say, another week, I have made little or no progress, call on whomever you like." "Very well. But I must be freed myself. I am willing to spend a fortune, if need be, but I cannot live under this cloud of suspicion." "Let us work together then. Tell me anything I ask, and you may be able to give me some help. First, can you state positively that no person came in through the Billiard Room and went on to the studio while you were in the Billiard Room, just before the tragedy?" "Why, of course, nobody passed through." "The Billiard Room was lighted?" "Yes. Not brilliantly, but a few lights were on." "Mr. Courtenay had just left you?" "A short time before, yes." "And,--now think carefully,--could you not have been sitting with your back to the door, or--perhaps, had you your face hidden in your hands, or for any such reason, could some one have passed you without your knowing it?" Joyce hesitated a moment, and then she said, "No; positively not. I was sitting on one of the side seats, and I may have had my eyes closed, for I was thinking deeply, but if any one had passed through the room I should have heard footsteps, of course." "On the soft, thick rug?" "Much of the floor is bare, and my hearing is very acute. Yes, Mr. Roberts, I must have heard the intruder, if one came in that way." "I do not think one did, but there is no other way for any one to have entered the studio." "Why not by coming in the Terrace door, and passing Natalie instead of me?" "The probability is less. The Terrace door was closed, and, too, Miss Vernon sat back on the Terrace, and must have seen any one passing in front of her." "But suppose she did see him, and chooses to deny it for his sake?" Bobsy looked at her. "I've been waiting for this," he said. "You mean Barry Stannard. There is room for thought in that direction. He had reason to be angry at his father, first because of his refusal to let Barry marry the girl, and also, because of Eric Stannard's annoyance of the little model. The father out of the way, the son steps into a fortune and wins his bride beside." "But Barry never did it! I confess I've thought of it as a theory, but I can't believe it of Barry,--I simply can't."