“She’s going to Lawrence’s room.” “Ferguson!” The increased pressure of his grasp showed that his strength was greater than I imagined. “What’s she--going there for?” “My business is to stop her going at all, not to stand here answering idiotic questions.” I broke from him. The delay, brief though it had been, was sufficient to baffle my intentions. Miss Moore had arrived at No. 64. A policeman was standing without, seemingly acting as guardian of the portal. “Is this the room in which Mr. Edwin Lawrence was killed?” Although I was still at some distance from her, I could hear her ask the question with the direct simplicity of a little child. The officer stared at her as if he could not make her out. “Yes, miss. But you can’t go in; my orders are to admit no one without instructions. What’s your name and your business?” “Let me pass!” Putting out her arm, touching him on the chest, she waved him aside with an imperious gesture, as if she were a sovereign queen. In an instant she was through the door. I was on him directly she had passed from sight. “You idiot! Why did you let her enter?” The man seemed bewildered. “Let her! There wasn’t much letting about it. For a lady she’s about as cool a hand as ever I saw.” He perceived that my intention was to follow. “Now then, none of that! You can’t go in there! Don’t you hear me say it?” “You ass!” I must have taken him by the shoulders more vigorously than I intended; he went spinning down the passage until the wall brought him to a standstill. Then I went after Miss Moore into the dead man’s room, Miss Adair and Hume hard upon my heels. CHAPTER XI. IN THE ONE ROOM--AND THE OTHER Edwin Lawrence was one of the most finical men I had ever met on the subject of draughts. A properly ventilated apartment set him shivering, even in the middle of summer. The faintest suspicion of a healthy current of air made him turn up the collar of his coat. No room could be too stuffy for him. All his doors and windows he screened with heavy hangings. Behind the curtains which veiled the entrance into his dining-room I lingered, for a moment, to glance between the voluminous folds. Miss Moore was standing about the centre of the room. Something in the expression of her face, and in her attitude, caused me to hesitate. I checked the advance of Miss Adair and Hume, who pressed on me behind. “Wait!” I whispered. “I want to see what she is going to do.”