Malcolm Sage had relinquished the salt-spoon and was now meditatively twirling a wineglass by its stem between his thumb and first finger. "There is no other way, sir." "Who has access to the library in the ordinary way? Tell me the names of everybody who is likely to go in at any time." "Outside Mr. Challoner and Mr. Dane, there is myself, Mrs. Trennett, the housekeeper, and Meston, the housemaid." "No one else?" "No one, sir, except, of course, the guests who might be staying in the house." "I shall want the finger-prints of all those you have named, including yours, Sir James." Malcolm Sage looked across at Sir James Walton. "I can then identify those of any stranger that I may find." Sir James nodded. "It would be quite easy for Mr. Challoner to let anyone in through the French-windows?" enquired Malcolm Sage, turning once more to Peters. "Quite, sir." "What time did Mr. Dane return last evening?" "I think about a quarter to eleven, sir. He went straight to his room." "That will be all now. Tell Mr. Dane I should like to see him." Peters noiselessly withdrew. A few minutes later Dane entered the room. Malcolm Sage gave him a keen, appraising look, then dropped his eyes. Dane was still acutely nervous. His fingers moved jerkily and the corners of his mouth twitched. "Will you tell me what took place yesterday between you and your uncle?" said Malcolm Sage. Dane looked about him nervously, as an animal might who has been trapped and seeks some means of escape. "We had a row," he began, then paused; "a terrible row," he added, as if to emphasise the nature of the quarrel. "So I understand," said Malcolm Sage. "I know what it was about. Just tell me what actually took place. In as few words as possible, please." "A week ago I told my uncle of my engagement, and he was very angry when he knew that my fiancée was--was---- "A secretary," suggested Malcolm Sage, without looking up. "Yes. He ordered me to break off the engagement at once, no matter what it might cost." "He referred to his pocket rather than to your feelings, I take it?" said Malcolm Sage. "Yes." There was a world of bitterness in the tone in which the word was uttered. "I refused. Four days ago Sir James came and, I think, talked things over with my uncle, who said he would see Enid, that is, my fiancée. She came yesterday afternoon. My uncle insisted on seeing her alone. She stayed only a few minutes." His voice broke. He swallowed rapidly several times in succession, struggling to regain control of himself. "You walked back to the station with her," remarked Malcolm Sage, "and she told you what had taken place. Your uncle had offered to buy her off. You were furious. You said many wild and extravagant things. Then you came back and went immediately into the library. What took place there?"