She touched her lips to Harold’s and was gone. *CHAPTER XXIX.* *THE TIGHTENED CORD.* London had seldom had a more thrilling hour over the morning paper. The sensational section of the press had lost nothing in the making of what was called the orchid mystery; some of them had even obtained more than an inkling of the true history of the Cardinal Moth, and many were the ingenious theories propounded as to the mysterious deaths at Streatham and in Frobisher’s conservatory. And here was another victim in the person of Sir Clement himself. As the thousands of business men poured into London by trains, ’buses and trams, nothing else was talked about. It became known presently that there would be an inquest at ten o’clock, and some time before the hour traffic opposite Frobisher’s house was practically stopped. But people who had gathered there hoping to get in were disappointed. Doubtless the inquest would be adjourned to some more suitable place, but the public were rigidly excluded from a private house. Nevertheless the conservatory was pretty well full at the time the inquest commenced. The pressmen were quite a large body in themselves, to say nothing of the jury and the police and a sprinkling of doctors. Both Sir James Brownsmith and Harold Denvers had arrived early. Angela came down to meet Denvers, looking white and subdued by contrast with her black dress. "Lady Frobisher is well, I hope?" he asked. "My aunt is satisfactory," Angela replied. "She slept fairly well, and she is getting over the shock. Of course it is absurd to say that she is overwhelmed with sorrow; it would be mere hypocrisy to say so. Nobody knows what a life she has had." "Why did she marry him?" Harold asked. "Why, indeed? She was not happy at home, and Sir Clement had an extraordinary fascination when he cared to exercise it. It was a miserable business altogether. Harold, is there ever going to be a solution of this terrible mystery? It gets on my nerves." "The whole thing is going to be solved within the next hour," Harold replied. "There is nothing very terrible to hear, so that you can be present if you choose. We shan’t want Lady Frobisher." In the big conservatory the proceedings had already commenced. The Coroner had addressed the rather frightened-looking jury, and then had waited for Inspector Townsend to call the witnesses. Hafid dragged himself into the box and was sworn on a Koran. He had very little to say except that he had heard a cry and found the body of his unfortunate master as he had found the body of Mr. Manfred. Beyond that he knew nothing. For the way he looked around him he might have been the criminal himself. "Take it and burn it, and destroy it," he said. "Take it and burn it, and destroy it." "And what do you mean by that remark?" the Coroner asked sharply.