"We saw one another," said Fane. "I hope you are well, Mr. Tracey?" "I thank you, sir," said Luther gravely, "I am well. And you?" "Pretty well," said Fane fretfully; "but this murder has given me a lot of anxiety. Not a pleasant thing to happen in one's house." "By no means, sir," replied Tracey, with a puzzled glance at Calvert. "Is it true that you are moving, as I have been informed by Miss Gerty B., the lady I'm engaged to?" "Yes; I suppose Miss Mason told her. My wife doesn't like the place now that it has such a bad reputation. We intend to go abroad for a time to Switzerland." "You'll miss your yachting," said Arnold, who was taking some papers out of his desk. "I don't think I'll yacht any more," said Fane gloomily; "my sea days are over." "Did you yacht much?" asked Tracey. "A lot. I sometimes stopped away for a couple of months." "What did Mrs. Fane say?" Fane laughed. "Oh, she didn't mind. She never cared for the sea herself. Between you and me, Mr. Tracey, my wife is fonder of business than pleasure. I am the reverse." "All the same, Fane, you must attend to business now." "What, Calvert, do you call your engagement to Laura business?" Arnold looked surprised. "I did not ask you here to talk about that," he replied still seriously. "Oh," answered Fane carelessly, and taking out a cigarette, "I thought you wanted me to make things square with Julia." "Laura and I understand one another," said Arnold, returning to his seat with a green-covered book in his hand. "I am now well off, and there is no bar to our marriage." "I am glad of that. A lucky thing for you, the death of that woman." "I would rather she had lived, poor soul," said Calvert with emotion. Fane shrugged his shoulders. "We all have to die some time." "But not by the knife," put in Tracey sharply. "The poor soul, as Calvert calls her, met with a terrible death." "I know, I know," said Fane irritably. "I wish you wouldn't dwell on the matter, Mr. Tracey. It is excessively unpleasant for me, seeing I live in the house where she was killed. Why don't you offer a reward to clear up the mystery, Calvert?" "I don't think there will be any need now," said Arnold with emphasis. "What do you mean?" Fane sat up suddenly. "Because Tracey and I have reason to believe we have found the assassin." "What!" Fane sprang to his feet much excited. "Who is it? Tell me his name." "What would you do if you knew it?" asked Tracey, who was looking at Fane with great wonderment. "Do," said the other, clenching his fist, "I would hang the man." "How do you know it was a man? It may have been a woman." "Why do you say that, Mr. Tracey?" "Well, there was the singing, you know." "Nonsense! I never thought of it at the time, but now I know that the singing proceeded from a phonograph." "Phonograph!" cried both men, much astonished.