"And why have you changed your mind since?" "Partly because of that clairvoyant person. I don't believe in those things, but--well--do you?" "I do not. But I can see how she would turn suspicion away from the two women in question. Who sent for the clairvoyant?" "Mrs. Stannard did, but, first, the Priestess, as she likes to be called, wrote and asked for a séance." "She did! How did she know she was wanted?" "She didn't know. Said she read about the case, and got interested." "Ah, a professional medium." "She said not. Said she only offers to help in cases that appeal especially to her." "H'm. Well, then she turned all your thoughts toward Mr. Courtenay, I am told." "But she didn't intend to. I mean, she described a man who entered the room, and who stabbed my father, but it was Bobsy Roberts' questions that made anybody think of Eugene Courtenay." "How?" "Oh, he kept saying, Bobsy did, 'Has he a pointed beard?' and 'is he tall and dark?' and such leading hints. The woman said 'Yes' every time, but I don't believe she knew what she was talking about." "And her mysterious reading of those sealed papers? You see, I know all the main facts, I just want your opinions." "Well, you've got me there! That woman _had_ to read those by supernatural power, because there's no other explanation. I know a bit about legerdemain and parlour magic and there was no opportunity whatever for any trickery. We wrote the things, sealed them, Bobsy Roberts collected them and handed them to her. Then in the same instant he switched off the light, and it wasn't half a minute before she was reading them aloud to us." "In the dark?" "Absolutely dark. And she hadn't moved from her chair, for her voice came from the place she was sitting." "Ventriloquism?" "Oh, no. Not a chance. Anyway, where could she go to have a light? The studio doors were all closed, and--why, of course, she didn't leave her chair, for when Bobsy switched on the light, suddenly, there she sat, eyes closed, hands quiet, composed and unruffled. No, sir, there's no explanation for that reading business but honest-to-goodness second sight! And, she gave us back our envelopes intact, seals unbroken." "Well, but, Mr. Stannard, if she had power to do all that, and I don't doubt your word in the least particular, isn't it strange that she couldn't see exactly who that murderer was?" "Suppose it was some one she didn't know?" "But oughtn't her powers of second sight, if she has such, reveal to her the identity of the man? She didn't know what was in your envelopes, but she told you. Why didn't her supernatural powers inform her the man's name?" "I don't know, Mr. Ford. I'm only telling you what I saw and heard." "That's all I want." And after a short further conversation, Alan Ford dismissed Barry and asked Mrs. Stannard to come to him next.