"Have you any idea whose it can be? It is highly improbable the burglar left it." "I've no idea," and Haviland shrugged his shoulders. "But if it was not left by the intruder, where could it possibly have come from? It is a man's glove." "Could it be one of Cousin Carr's?" said Pauline. "Aunt Lucy was awfully fond of anything of his. She kept one of his caps in her drawer for months, after he left the last time." "No," replied Haviland; "it isn't Loria's. He wears larger gloves than I do. My theory points to a sort of gentleman burglar, a 'Raffles,' you know, and I think he talked with Miss Lucy, before he struck that blow, and disarmed her mind of fear." "What an extraordinary idea!" and Pauline looked thoughtful. "But how else explain the glove?" "And the snake? Did your gentleman burglar persuade her to wear that paper thing? Never! Gray, you're absurd!" "Another thing," went on Inspector Brunt, returning the glove to his roomy pocket-book; "In the bedroom we noticed a glass of milk and beside it an empty plate. Was it the lady's habit to have a night lunch?" "Yes," said Anita; "but she rarely ate it. In case of insomnia, she had ready a light repast, but she almost never touched it." "The glass of milk is still untouched," said Brunt, "but the plate is empty. What did it contain?" "A sandwich, I think," said Anita. "That is what Estelle usually prepared for her. She will know,--Estelle, the maid." "Miss Carrington's lady's maid?" "Yes; though not hers exclusively. She was expected to act as maid for Miss Stuart and myself also, at such times as Miss Carrington didn't require her services." "And she, then, brought the breakfast tray, that is upset on the floor?" "Yes; Miss Lucy always had an early cup of tea, before she dressed for breakfast with the family." "And the maid took it to her this morning? Did she not then discover the--the tragedy?" "She says not!" cried Pauline; "but I'm sure she did! She says she saw Miss Lucy at the mirror, and thinking her engrossed, merely left the tray on the tabouret and went away." "Ridiculous!" exclaimed Haviland; "What does Estelle mean by such lies? Of course she saw Miss Carrington's strange appearance, of course she was frightened out of her wits, and of course she dropped the tray and ran. But why not say so? And why not give an immediate alarm? She took that tray, probably, about eight. Pauline went up at nine. What was Estelle doing all that time? Why didn't she go in to dress Miss Carrington? I tell you, Mr. Inspector, there's a lot of queer work to be explained, and with all due respect to the force, I'm pretty sure you'll need expert service if you're going to get anywhere. And I'm sure, too, that if we can get word to Carrington Loria and back, he'll say spare no trouble or expense to avenge his aunt's murder. He is equally heir with you, Pauline, and he ought to be consulted."