moment after, thinking I heard approaching steps, I quitted the room. This was my first visit.” As he stopped, possibly for breath, possibly to judge to what extent I was impressed by his account, the inspector seized the opportunity to ask if Mrs. Fairbrother had been standing any of this time with her back to him. To which he answered yes, while they were in the window. “Long enough for her to pluck off the jewel and thrust it into the gloves, if she had so wished?” “Quite long enough.” “But you did not see her do this?” “I did not.” “And so took the gloves without suspicion?” “Entirely so.” “And carried them away?” “Unfortunately, yes.” “Without thinking that she might want them the next minute?” “I doubt if I was thinking seriously of her at all. My thoughts were on my own disappointment.” “Did you carry these gloves out in your hand?” “No, in my pocket.” “I see. And you met—” “No one. The sound I heard must have come from the rear hall.” “And there was nobody on the steps?” “No. A gentleman was standing at their foot—Mr. Grey, the Englishman—but his face was turned another way, and he looked as if he had been in that same position for several minutes.” “Did this gentleman—Mr. Grey—see you?” “I can not say, but I doubt it. He appeared to be in a sort of dream. There were other people about, but nobody with whom I was acquainted.” “Very good. Now for the second visit you acknowledge having paid this unfortunate lady.” The inspector’s voice was hard. I clung a little more tightly to my uncle, and Mr. Durand, after one agonizing glance my way, drew himself up as if quite conscious that he had entered upon the most serious part of the struggle.