Her face was ghastly. “We have the proof, Davenport,--the indisputable proof,” she murmured. “The proof? What proof have _we?_” “The best proof in the world. He shot himself. Only a guilty man would have taken his own life in the circumstances. We--we must believe it of him, Davenport. That poor, sick girl! How are we to tell her?” Of the two, she was now by far the more composed. Except for the colourless lips and an almost lavender-like hue that stole slowly into her cheeks just below the temples, indicative of the vast effort she had been called upon to exert in order to regain command of her nerves, she was visibly calm and self-contained. Her husband had sunk dejectedly into a chair. For many minutes no word passed between them. It was she who spoke first. “You say they caught one of the men--one of the others, I mean?” she inquired. “The taxi-driver.” Her lips parted to form another question. She withheld it. With her handkerchief she wiped away the moisture that suddenly appeared at the corners of her mouth--oozing from between close-pressed lips. She read the accounts in the other papers, her face absolutely emotionless. After a while he looked up, and, unobserved, watched her face. “You are a very wonderful woman, Frieda,” he said as she laid the last of the papers on the table. Her answer was a faint smile and a shake of the head. She arose and started resolutely toward the door. As she neared it, she faltered, and then turned back to him. “Davenport, I have just had a most disturbing thought. It also may have occurred to you. Derrol Steele was a trusted and familiar guest in this house. He heard many important,--let me go on, please,--I can see revulsion in your eyes. Whether we like it or not, we must look at it squarely from every point of view. Last night, for example, he heard the Admiral; he heard what the Countess had to say about the Italian situation. Going farther back, you yourself spoke in his presence of the sailing of the _Elston_ with all those men on board.” “I see what is in your mind, Frieda,” he said slowly. “You mean we may be dragged into it?” “Not at all,” she said rather sharply. “We need not be drawn into it in the slightest degree unless we volunteer information that concerns no one but ourselves. Why should any one know that he came into possession of facts here in our home?” “Such things are bound to leak out, my dear. The investigation will be thorough. They will go to the bottom of this. Of course, I can manage it so that we sha'n't come in for any publicity, but we can't escape questioning.” “And are we to admit that we discussed these very grave and important matters in his presence?” “We are to tell the truth, Frieda. You should not forget that we spoke of them in the presence of an officer in the United States Army.”