“Patsy,” asked Nick, “does Eric Masson walk with a hitch or a jerk to his right shoulder?” “I saw nothing of it?” replied the lad. “Chick,” said Nick, “Masson was in his club from six o’clock in the evening until ten at night. Three men stand to swear to it.” “What time did Ethel Romney leave her home last night?” asked Chick. “About eight o’clock.” “It’s a puzzle; more puzzling the deeper you get into it,” said Chick. “If these three men stand firm, Masson can prove an alibi, if charged.” “Chick, one man stands ready to swear that he saw Eric Masson in Fifty-eighth Street at nine o’clock, for he had just looked at his watch as he saluted Masson. “Another stands ready to swear that he met and spoke to Eric Masson at about half-past nine, at the corner of Fifty-seventh Street and Fifth Avenue.” “And this is the result of your inquiries since I parted with you?” asked Chick. “You think that instead of clearing things they are worse muddled.” “It would look that way.” “Well, you’re right. I can’t even imagine an explanation of these contradictions.” Further conversation on this line was interrupted by the coming of Mrs. Carter, who had been spending the afternoon with Blanche Constant. She was quite excited, saying: “It has been a distressing afternoon. Blanche’s grief is almost robbing her of her senses. She blames herself so much that she did not guard Ethel against the dangers she was exposed to.” Turning suddenly to her husband, she said: “Nick, how is it that you can doubt for a moment that Masson is the man that murdered Ethel, thinking she was Blanche?” Chick was about to speak, but Nick checked him, saying: “Edith, you know, I usually want proof before I believe a man guilty.” Continuing, he said: “When, having been rejected, Masson learns that Blanche Romney was about to marry Albert Constant, he tells her it will be well neither for herself nor for Constant if she does. It was not nice or manly, yet there is nothing in that to justify a belief in murder.” “But——” “Blanche thinks he injured her husband. That is only suspicion. She hints at foul play in Constant’s death, but it is based only on the fact that Masson dined at the same table. At the very best, it is only suspicion. “She thinks that Masson killed her dogs, but she has no proof. It is only suspicion.” Patsy looked up in great surprise at Nick when he said the last words. Then he saw that Nick had a purpose in the way he was replying to Edith. “Well, it is not suspicion when he entices Blanche into an empty house, where he is alone, is it?” cried Edith, quite heatedly. “What is that you are saying?” asked Nick. “I didn’t mean to speak of it,” said Edith, “for Blanche is so afraid of the scandal of it. But the grass was hardly green over the grave of her husband when Masson renewed his attentions to Blanche. That was bad enough in itself. “She drove him away angrily, and yet he persisted in writing to her until she returned his letters unopened.