And then, with regard to Thursday and Thursday night. To have caught the 9.00 a.m. from Charing Cross, Felix must have left St. Malo at not later than 8.50. According to his statement, his breakfast was left ready for him at 8.00, and there certainly would not have been time for him to eat it. But there was nothing to prevent him having in two or three minutes dirtied the plates and carried away some food, to give the impression he had had his meal. Here there was hope of help from the charwoman. Clifford could not decide the point till he had interviewed her. He turned back to his notes. After breakfast, Felix, according to his statement, had painted without ceasing, except for a cup of cocoa at lunch time, until half-past six. He had then changed and gone to town, dining alone at the Gresham. Though he had seen no one he knew at the famous restaurant, there was a chance that a waiter or commissionaire or other official might have recognised him. He had left about nine and, feeling tired, he had returned straight home. There, no one could know of his presence till 7.30 the next morning, when Mrs. Murphy would expect to hear him answer her knock. But if he had been to Paris, meeting the cask at the Gare du Nord, he could have been home equally at 7.30 a.m. Therefore the evidence of his answering the knock would be immaterial. Certainly if Felix were telling the truth, the manner in which confirmation was eluding him was most unfortunate. But was Felix telling the truth? . . . Then there were those three discoveries of Burnley at St. Malo, the ‘Emmie’ letter, the impression on the blotsheet, and the pin. Any one of these alone would have been highly damaging to Felix’s case; the three together seemed overwhelming. And yet Felix had not attempted a word of explanation. He had simply denied knowledge of all three. If the accused man could not explain these damaging facts, how was Clifford to set about it?