Her fingers sought his. He clasped them firmly. "If I get past this," he said, "I'll always look you straight in the eye, Katherine. It was mad--silly. You don't quite understand--" He broke off, glancing at the door through which Graham had disappeared. "Then remember," she said softly, "I don't believe it." She released his hand, sighing. "That's all I can say, all I can do now. You're ill, Bobby. Go in. Rest for awhile. When you've had sleep you may remember something." He shook his head. He walked slowly with her to the house. As he climbed the stairs he heard Paredes telephoning. He couldn't understand the man's insistence on remaining where clearly he was an intruder. He entered his bedroom which he had occupied only once or twice during the last few months. The place seemed unfamiliar. As he bathed and dressed his sense of strangeness grew, and he understood why. The last time he had been here he had stood in no personal danger. There had been no black parenthesis in his life during the stretch of which he might have committed an unspeakable crime. For he couldn't believe as firmly as Katherine did. Since he couldn't remember, he might have done anything. "Come!" he called in response to a stealthy rapping at the door. Stealth, it occurred to him, had, since last night, become a stern condition of his life. Graham entered and noiselessly closed the door. "I had a chance to slip in," he explained. "Paredes is wandering about the place. I'd give a lot to know what he's after at the Cedars. Katherine is in her room, trying to rest after last night, I fancy." "And," Bobby asked, "the detective--Howells?" "If he's back from the station," Graham answered, "he's keeping low. I wonder if it was he or Paredes who followed you through the woods?" "Why should Carlos have followed me?" Bobby asked. "I've been thinking it over, Hartley. It isn't a bad scheme having him here, since you think he hasn't told all he knows." "I don't say that," Graham answered. "I don't know what to think about Paredes. I've come to talk about just that. I'm a lawyer, and I've had some criminal practice. Since this detective will be satisfied with you for a victim, I'm going to take your case, if you'll have me. I'll be your detective as well as your lawyer." Bobby was a good deal touched. "That's kind of you--more than I deserve, for I have resented you at times." Graham, it was clear, didn't guess he referred to his friendship for Katherine, for he answered quickly: "I must have seemed a nuisance, but I was only trying to get you back on the straight path where you've always belonged. I can't believe you did this thing, even unconsciously, until I'm shown proof without a single flaw. Until the autopsy the only thing we have to work on is that party last night. I've telephoned to New York and put a trustworthy man on the heels of Maria and the stranger. Meantime I think I'd better watch developments here."