"She was and she wasn't," answered Mrs. Presk, enigmatically. "She wasn't mad enough to be shut up, but she acted in a queerer way than most people. Look at this room, and all its lights; every night it was the same. She usually dined off a chop and potatoes, yet she dressed in silk and lace to eat them. And----" Thus far Mrs. Presk with her eyes on the corpse had proceeded volubly, when suddenly--still staring at the dead woman--she stopped, and her jaw dropped. Motionless as a stone image she stood looking; and then with an ejaculation she ran out of the room. The detective and the inspector looked at her vanishing form, looked at the corpse, looked at one another, and failed to understand her action. "What the devil does that mean?" said Gebb, with surly amazement. "Only the devil knows," retorted Lackland, grimly; "but if that jade is hiding anything of importance the sooner we get it out of her the better. You're a bit of a lawyer, Gebb, so I'll bring back Mrs. Presk, and you'll examine her!" "No!" said Gebb, detaining his friend; "let her go now. I'll get the truth out of her to-morrow." "By George you will, will you!" grumbled Lackland, annoyed that his advice was not taken; "and what if you don't get charge of the case?" "I'll grin and bear it, I suppose!" retorted the other; "but I'll work my hardest to be given the handling of this affair, for it strikes me that it will prove a sight more difficult than either of us guesses. This room's a rum one, ain't it? And that pack of cards aren't there for nothing. Then there is the dead woman's dress, and the landlady's queer conduct. Oh, you can bet, inspector, there's a jolly lot more in these things than meets the eye, and I'm the man to find out what they all mean." "You can blow your own trumpet, I see!" said Lackland, dryly. Gebb laughed, in nowise embarrassed. "My trumpeter's dead from over-work," he replied coolly. "If I don't praise myself no one else will. However, I'll see to-morrow if the big wigs will let me run this show in my own way. Now you go and look round the house, Lackland, and leave me here to examine the room." "What about the body?" asked the inspector, dominated by Gebb's strong will. "We'll let it lie here as it is, until the doctor comes. I told that policeman who brought Mrs. Presk to the station to knock up an M.D." "By George, sir, one would think you were inspector here!" spluttered the indignant Lackland. "Am I nobody?" "You're a good fellow--too good to get your monkey up for nothing. You let me look after this murder myself. I'll do you a good turn some other time."