“You’ve guessed it in part, Mr. Queen. I’ve been one of the most unfortunate men God ever created. That devil Field—whoever killed him deserves to be decorated for his service to humanity. He was an octopus—a soulless beast in human form. I can’t tell you how happy—yes, happy!—I am that he is dead!” “Softly there, Morgan,” said Queen. “Although I gather our mutual friend was a good deal of a skunk, your remarks might be overheard by a less sympathetic audience. And—?” “Here’s the whole story,” mumbled Morgan, his eyes fixed on the desk-blotter. “It’s a hard one to tell.... When I was a kid at college I got into some trouble with a girl—a waitress in the college restaurant. She was not bad—just weak, and I suppose I was wild in those days. At any rate she had a child—my child.... I suppose you know that I come from a strait-laced family. If you don’t, you would find out soon enough on investigation. They had great plans for me, they were socially ambitious—to cut it short, I couldn’t very well marry the girl and bring her to father’s house as my wife. It was a caddish thing to do....” He paused. “But it was done, and that’s all that matters. I’ve—I’ve always loved her. She was sensible enough about the arrangements.... I managed to provide for her out of my generous allowance. No one—I’ll swear not a soul in this world with the exception of her widowed mother, a fine old lady—knew about the affair. I’ll swear to that, I say. And yet—” His fist clenched, but he resumed with a sigh. “Eventually, I married the girl whom my family had selected for me.” There was a painful silence as he stopped to clear his throat. “It was a _mariage de convenance_—just that and nothing more. She came from an old aristocratic family, and I had the money. We have lived fairly happily together.... Then I met Field. I curse the day I ever consented to go into partnership with him—but my own business was not exactly all it might have been and Field, if nothing else, was an aggressive and clever lawyer.” The Inspector took a pinch of snuff. “Everything went smoothly at first,” continued Morgan in the same low tone. “But by degrees I began to suspect that my partner was not everything he should have been. Queer clients—queer clients indeed—would enter his private office after hours; he would evade my questions about them; things began to look peculiar. Finally I decided my own reputation would suffer if I continued to be linked with the man, and I broached the subject of dissolution. Field objected strenuously, but I was stubborn and after all he could not dominate my desires. We dissolved.” Ellery’s fingers tapped an absent tattoo on the handle of his stick.