"Oh, no, no," she cried petulantly; "I'm all right." But as she tried to stand up she staggered helplessly. "I insist on your going to bed, Lulu; I shall carry you up-stairs at once." And the big man picked her up without more ado. She smiled at me over his shoulder, dimpling like a pleased child. "You see, Doctor, what a tyrant he is," she cried, waving her small hand as she disappeared. When Atkins returned, I rose to say good night, but he motioned me to return to my seat, and handing me a box of cigars, insisted on my taking one. Then, dragging a chair forward, he sat down facing me. We puffed away for several minutes, in silence. I was sure, from his manner, that he was trying to get up his courage to tell me something. "You said just now that Mrs. Atkins has something the matter with her heart?" "I'm afraid so; but I do not fancy it is anything very serious, and if it is taken in time, and she leads a quiet, happy life, there is no reason that she should not recover completely." He got up and paced the room. "I love her," he murmured. I watched him with increasing perplexity. "Well, if that is so, treat her differently. You sit and watch her in a way that is enough to make anyone nervous, let alone a delicate woman. Forgive my speaking so plainly, but I consider it my duty as a physician. I am convinced that the extreme nervousness you spoke of (and which, by the way, I have failed to observe) is not to be attributed to the murder at all, but to your behaviour. I don't think you have any idea how strange that is." "Oh, but my wife has not been nervous since the Frenchman was arrested. We watched him being taken away from your house, and last night she slept quietly for the first time since the tragedy." He paused and looked at me as if he longed to say more. "Well, that is quite natural, I think. I can imagine nothing more alarming than to know that you are living under the same roof with an undetected criminal, who might at any time make use of his freedom to commit another murder. Till she knew who was guilty, she must have suspected and feared everybody. Now that she knows the fellow to be under lock and key, she can again sleep in peace." Atkins sat down. "Doctor, men of your calling are the same as confessors, are they not?" "If you mean as regards the sanctity of professional communications, yes." "Then I should like to confide a few things to you under the seal of that professional secrecy." "All right; go ahead." "Do you know that my wife is from Chicago?" "Yes." "I have never been there myself, and consequently know none of her friends. You may have heard that my father was very much opposed to my marriage. He collected a lot of cock-and-bull stories about my wife, which, needless to say, I did not believe. So the wedding took place, and, until a week ago, I can truthfully say that I have been perfectly happy." "What happened then?"