Queen smiled. “I can’t think anything yet, young man,” he protested. “I haven’t heard what your sister has to say about it.” “She’ll explain all right, Inspector,” said Stephen Barry, his handsome face drawn into lines of fatigue. “You needn’t worry about that. It’s the damnable suspicion that she’s open to that makes me angry—the whole thing is ridiculous!” “I know just how you feel, Mr. Barry,” said the Inspector kindly. “And I want to take this opportunity of apologizing for my conduct the other night. I was perhaps a little—harsh.” “I suppose I ought to apologize, too,” returned Barry, with a wan smile. “I guess I said a few things I didn’t mean in that office. In the heat of the moment—seeing Frances—Miss Ives-Pope go off in a faint—” He paused awkwardly. Peale, a massive giant, ruddy and wholesome in his morning clothes, put his arm affectionately about Barry’s shoulders. “I’m sure the Inspector understood, Steve old boy,” he said cheerfully. “Don’t take it so much to heart—everything’s bound to come out all right.” “You can leave it to Inspector Queen,” said Sampson, nudging the Inspector jovially in the ribs. “He’s the only bloodhound I’ve ever met who has a heart under his badge—and if Miss Ives-Pope can clear this thing up to his satisfaction, even to a reasonable extent, that will be the end of it.” “Oh, I don’t know,” murmured Ellery thoughtfully. “Dad’s a great one for surprises. As for Miss Ives-Pope”—he smiled ruefully and bowed to the actor—“Mr. Barry, you’re a deucedly lucky fellow.” “You wouldn’t think so if you saw the mater,” drawled Stanford Ives-Pope. “If I’m not mistaken, here she barges in now.” The men turned toward the door. An enormously stout woman was waddling in. A uniformed nurse supported her carefully under one huge arm, holding a large green bottle in her other hand. The financier followed briskly, by the side of a white-haired youngish looking man, wearing a dark coat and holding a black bag in his hand. “Catharine, my dear,” said Ives-Pope in a low voice to the stout woman as she sank into a great-chair, “these are the gentlemen whom I told you about—Inspector Richard Queen and Mr. Ellery Queen.” The two Queens bowed, receiving a stony glance from the myopic eyes of Mrs. Ives-Pope. “Charmed, I’m sure,” she shrilled. “Where’s Nurse? Nurse! I feel faint, please.” The uniformed girl hurried to her side, the green bottle ready. Mrs. Ives-Pope closed her eyes and inhaled, sighing with relief. The financier hurriedly introduced the white-haired man, Dr. Vincent Cornish, the family physician. The physician made swift apologies and disappeared behind the butler. “Great chap, this Cornish,” whispered Sampson to Queen. “Not only the most fashionable doctor on the Drive, but a genuine scientist as well.” The Inspector elevated his brows, but said nothing. “The mater’s one reason why I never cared for the medical profession,” Stanford Ives-Pope was saying in a loud whisper to Ellery.