‘Very well, I would suggest that you and Lefarge go into the matter of the letter to-morrow. Arrange your programme as you think best for yourselves and keep me advised of how you get on. And now as to the clothes. Let me see exactly what you have.’ Burnley spread out the dead woman’s clothes and jewellery on a table. The Chief examined them for some minutes in silence. ‘Better separate them into three lots,’ he said at length, ‘the dress, the underclothes, and the trinkets. It will take three to work it properly.’ He consulted his card index and picked up the telephone. ‘Send Mme. Furnier and Mlles. Lecoq and Blaise here.’ In a few seconds three stylishly dressed women entered. The Chief introduced Burnley and briefly explained the case. ‘I want you three ladies,’ he said, ‘to take one each of these three lots of clothes and trinkets, and find the purchaser. Their quality will give you an idea of the shops to try. Get at it first thing to-morrow, and keep yourselves in constant touch with headquarters.’ When the women had withdrawn with the articles he turned to Burnley,-- ‘In an inquiry of this sort I like a report in the evenings of progress during the day. Perhaps you and Lefarge wouldn’t mind calling about nine to-morrow evening, when we shall have a further discussion. And now it is nearly eight o’clock, so you cannot do anything to-night. You, Mr. Burnley, are doubtless tired from your journey and will be glad to get to your hotel. So good-night, gentlemen.’ The detectives bowed themselves out. After an exchange of further greetings and compliments, Lefarge said:-- ‘Are you really very tired? Are you game for a short inquiry to-night?’ ‘Why, certainly. What do you propose?’ ‘This. Let us cross and get some dinner at Jules’ in the Boule Miche. It’s on the way to that address the Chief gave us. Then we could go on and see whether the body you found in the cask can be identified as that of Madame Marie Lachaise.’ They strolled leisurely over the Pont St. Michel and crossed the Quai into the Boulevard. When Burnley was in London he swore there was no place like that city, but in Paris he never felt so sure. Jove! he was glad to be back. And what luck to have met this good fellow Lefarge again! He felt that in the intervals of business he was going to enjoy himself. They dined inexpensively but well, sitting over their cigars and liqueur coffee until the clocks struck nine. Then Lefarge made a move. ‘I don’t like to go to this place too late,’ he said. ‘Do you mind coming now?’ They took a taxi and, leaving the Luxembourg behind on the left, quickly ran the mile or so to the Boulevard Arago. M. Lachaise received them at once and they stated their melancholy business, showing the photograph of the body. The avocat took it to the light and examined it earnestly. Then he returned it with a gesture of relief. ‘Thank God,’ he said at length, ‘it’s not she.’