He felt that he had acquitted himself with an adroitness which Crewe himself might have envied. He had made an important discovery and extracted the name of the shop where the handkerchief had been bought without--so he flattered himself--arousing any suspicions on the part of the lady. Rolfe knew from his inquiries in West End shops that handkerchiefs of that pattern and quality were stocked by many of the good shops, but the fact that he had found a handkerchief of this kind in the house of a lady who had abstracted secret letters from the murdered man's desk, and had, moreover, discovered the name of the shop where she bought her handkerchiefs, convinced him that he had struck a path which must lead to an important discovery. Mademoiselle Chiron followed Rolfe into the hall and watched his departure from a front window. When she saw his retreating figure turn the corner of the street she left the window, ran upstairs quickly, and knocked lightly at the closed door. The door was opened by Mrs. Holymead, who appeared to be in a state of nervous agitation. Her large brown eyes were swollen and dim with weeping, her hair had become partly unloosened, her face was white and her dress disordered. She caught the Frenchwoman by the wrist and drew her into the bedroom, closing the door after her. "What did he want, Gabrielle?" she gasped. "What did he say? Has he come about--_that_?" Gabrielle nodded her head. "Gabrielle!" Mrs. Holymead's voice rose almost to a cry. "Oh, what are we to do? Did he come to arrest--" "No, no! He was not so bad. He did not come to do dreadful things, but just to have a little talk.'' "A little talk? What about?" "He wanted to see you, and ask you one or two little questions. I put him off. He was like wax in my hands. Pouf! He has gone, so why trouble?" "But he will come again! He is sure to come again!" "No doubt. He says he will come again--in a week--when you return." Mrs. Holymead wrung her hands helplessly. "What are we to do then?" she wailed. "We will look the tragedy in the face when it comes. _Ma foi!_ What have you been doing to yourself? For nothing is it worth to look like _that_." With deft and loving fingers Gabrielle began to arrange Mrs. Holymead's hair. "We will have everything right before this little police agent returns. We will show him he is the complete fool for suspecting you know about the murder." "But what can you do, Gabrielle?" asked Mrs. Holymead. She looked at Gabrielle with her large brown eyes, as though she were utterly dependent on the other's stronger will for support and assistance. Mademoiselle Chiron stopped in her arrangement of Mrs. Holymead's hair and, bending over, kissed her affectionately. "_Ma petite_," she said, "do not worry. I have thought of a plan--oh, a most excellent plan--which I will myself execute to-morrow, and then shall all your troubles be finished, and you will be happy again." CHAPTER XXII "A lady to see you, sir."