“Who are you and what are you doing?” he asked brusquely, as she sprang up and turned in some confusion. Then she realized who he must be and the situation began to appeal to her. “I am Miss Temple,” she answered calmly. “Who are you?” “I am Inspector Humblethorne, in charge of this case,” he replied, “and you have only answered the least important half of my question.” “Perhaps we are doing the same thing,” she said, smiling and meeting his gaze with absolute frankness, “I happening to be just ahead of you; that’s all.” Her complete self-possession, her frank and winning air could hardly have failed to impress the most naturally suspicious of men; official and would-be idealist conflicted in Humblethorne as he looked at her, and idealist won. He found that, without further proof of innocence, he was acquitting this vivid girl at least from any connexion with the dark mystery he was engaged in trying to solve. Nevertheless, he was slightly annoyed at her remark, and answered quietly, “I think there are enough riddles already here. Will you please explain?” “With pleasure,” replied Evelyn. “The train of reasoning which brought me to this spot is simplicity itself. A certain cigarette box is found lying close to—well, to the body; that cigarette box belongs to a certain table; it was on it last night, and it is probable, not certain of course but probable, that whoever threw it picked it up from there. That table stands close to the door of the drawing-room. Interest—curiosity, if you like—suggested to me that, since that was so, it was possible, perhaps even probable, that the intruder came from the drawing-room. A guess certainly, but after all not a wild guess, especially when one remembers that the drawing-room opens onto this quiet stretch of lawn. It would be so easy to get into the park and cross the lawn without being seen; and then again the drawing-room is the earliest room to be left unoccupied. True, it is next the smoking-room, but you cannot expect everything.” Humblethorne listened with the greatest attention. “Your reasoning,” he said, as she stopped, “is admirably clear. But what made you come here?” “There seem to be boot-marks on the sill inside,” she said simply, “though it is difficult to be sure without opening the shutters, and I was afraid I might disturb something if I did that. But they made me curious to see the earth outside, so I came round. And I find this.” She pointed to the trampled soil as she spoke. “Do you often do this sort of thing?” he asked, his eyes still on her. She laughed. “I began five minutes ago,” she answered. “It was an impulse which struck me as I came downstairs to go out.” “Well,” he said, “I could do with a few of the same myself. Tell me,” he went on, “now I am here, can you add anything of importance to what I have gathered about last night?”