I had not mentioned poor Roddy's death, for it was a subject so painful that I discussed it as little as possible. Was it not, however, likely that if I explained all the circumstances and told her my suspicions, her hatred might lead her to disclose some clue whereby I might trace Aline Cloud? Her words had caused me considerable misgiving, for it was now entirely plain that, contrary to what I had confidently believed, namely, that she loved me, she in reality held me in contempt as weak and fickle, influenced by every pretty face or wayward glance. I looked at her again. Yes, my eyes were not love-blinded now. She was absolutely bewitching in her beauty. For the first time I became aware that there was but one woman I really loved, and that it was Muriel. "I regret that you should not consider me to be still worthy your confidence," I said, bending towards her seriously. "I have admitted everything, and have expressed regret. What more can I do?" "Forget her!" she answered, with a quick petulance. "It is best to forget." "Ah!" I sighed. "That is unfortunately impossible." "Then you love her still!" she cried, turning upon me. "You love her!" "No," I answered. "I do not love her, because--" "Because she treated you shabbily, and left without giving you her address, eh? You see, I know all the circumstances." "You are mistaken," I protested. "I do not love her because I entertain a well-founded if perhaps absurd suspicion." "Suspicion! What do you suspect?" she asked quickly. Then, linking my arm in hers, I walked on, and commencing at the beginning told her of that fateful day when I discovered the tragic death of poor Roddy, and the circumstances which, combined with Aline's own confession, seemed to point to her being his visitor, immediately prior to his death. As she listened her face grew ashen, and she perceptibly trembled. A violent emotion shook her slight frame, and as I continued to relate my dismal story and piece together the evidence which I felt certain must some day connect Aline with the tragedy, I was dumbfounded to discern that which, in a single instant, changed the whole aspect of the situation. Muriel was speechless. She was trembling with fear. "And you really suspect that your friend was murdered?" she exclaimed at last in the voice of one preoccupied. "If that had been really so, wouldn't the doctors have known?" "Medical evidence is not always reliable," I answered. "From what I have already explained it is proved conclusively that some one visited him in his valet's absence." "Who called there, do you think?" "Ah! I don't know," I answered. "That is what I am endeavouring to discover." She gave a slight, almost imperceptible sigh. It was a sigh of relief!