"All developments in the case will be brought out at the inquest," replied Mitchell politely, and Foster, his curiosity unsatisfied, walked away. He found the room used for inquests crowded to the doors, and made his way through the knot of men standing about, to the reporters' table, where a seat had been reserved for him by the morgue master. Across the east end of the room was the raised platform upon which stood a long table and chairs for the coroner, the deputy coroner, and the witnesses, while to their left were the six chairs for the coroner's jury. As the Senator seated himself he spied Charles Miller among the men standing at the back of the room. There was a vacant chair next to his, and after a few hurried words with the coroner, Foster beckoned Miller to join him. "I called you up repeatedly this morning," said Miller, pushing his chair closer to the Senator so as to make room for a reporter on his left. "But your servant declared you were not at home." "I spent most of the morning at the Whitneys' and lunched with Miss Grey. Horrible affair, this; the Whitneys are all unstrung." "Did you see Kathleen?" "No," Foster stroked his chin nervously. "She has steadily refused to see anyone, even her parents. Her conduct is most strange." "I don't agree with you," warmly. "She has undergone a great shock, finding a friend dead in an elevator...." "Ah, did she?" The words seemed forced from Foster; he would have given much to recall them on seeing the look that flashed in Miller's eyes. "She did," he asserted tersely. "Kathleen is the soul of honor--you have but to know her to appreciate that--she and evil can never be associated together." "You are a warm champion," exclaimed Foster. "I should almost imagine--" "That I am engaged to her?" calmly. "Quite true, I am." Foster drew back. "I--I beg pardon," he stammered in some confusion. "I had no idea affairs had progressed so far--I am sorry I spoke as I did." "You were but echoing what I hear on all sides," answered Miller bitterly. "True," Foster nodded. "Kathleen's extraordinary silence, when by a few words she could explain what happened yesterday morning before her screams aroused the household, is causing unfavorable comment and unfortunate conjecture." "The mystery will be explained this afternoon," and quiet confidence rang in Miller's pleasantly modulated tones. "Hello, I see some members of the Diplomatic Corps are present." "And the so-called 'four hundred,'" growled Foster. The close atmosphere had started him coughing, and he scowled at Baron Frederic von Fincke who was seated near by. "Where is the jury?" he asked, as soon as the paroxysm of coughing was over. "Viewing the body in that room." Miller indicated a closed door to his right. "The jury is sworn in there by the morgue master."