“I remember he asked me to go to the railroad station with him to see them off, for the divorce was to be gotten quietly and the proprieties were to be observed. Mrs. Breese was very insistent upon that. I notice that in her own case she was not so discreet. However, as I say, we went to say good-bye at the Gare du Nord. Mrs. Breese treated the Count very coldly. She seemed to be finished with him forever, and her manner indicated as much. Mr. Breese, too, didn’t make matters particularly pleasant. “But the Countess was affected, despite her pose. I could see that. I suspected that she had cried many nights when she was alone, and I was sure, too, that if it had not been for her mother, who dominated her, she would never have lost faith in my friend. But what will you? Some people are born to dominate, and others to be dominated. I could see that the girl was putty in her mother’s hands, and the Count realized that, too. It was tragic, for their romance had been beautiful. “When they left finally, the Count was so melancholy that I was afraid he would do something foolish. I did my best to cheer him up. Finally I said, for my reputation was at stake, that despite the extraordinary difficulties of the case, I would do my best to clear his name. And then, I assured him, his bride would receive him to her arms again. Of course, I didn’t tell him that in my opinion Mrs. Breese had cast him off as a son-in-law not because he was under suspicion, but because he had become a poor man. “Fortunately, the Count had rescued some family jewels, and I had some small investments in London. We had enough to live on and to travel in a modest way. The Count acquired the hobby of etchings from his father, and I encouraged him to visit the museums and to keep his mind occupied. We wandered around Europe, and had a fairly pleasant time. Then, because the Count insisted, we went to America. “We had both been reading the newspapers assiduously. The one thing that kept the Count buoyant was the fact that his bride never remarried. But when he tried to see her, she refused to meet him--at the insistence, I think, of her mother. Even during the trial, when the Count thought he could be of at least moral support to his wife, she consistently avoided him. Once they met, but the Countess did not say a word, and wouldn’t listen to him. “When we read in the newspapers that they were coming here, nothing I could say would dissuade the Count from coming here, too. And then, after thinking out the case, I reached the conclusion that perhaps it was wise. For, by a strange coincidence, these very people, with the exception of Mr. Breese, were present at the time of the murder of the Baron Peter Setovski. And I feel that I have never been nearer to a solution. Tell me----”