“And you, too, my lady,” he said. “Allow me!” He closed the door, then crossed to the fireplace. “After I had seen you and Miss Trevert last night, my lady,” he began, “I had a talk with Mr. Jeekes, Mr. Parrish’s principal secretary, who came down by car from London as soon as he heard the news. My lady, I think this is a fairly simple case!” He paused and scanned the carpet. “Mr. Jeekes tells me, my lady,” he went on presently, “that Mr. Parrish had been suffering from neurasthenia and a weak heart brought on by too much smoking. It appears that he had consulted, within the last two months, two leading specialists of Harley Street about his health. One of these gentlemen, Sir Winterton Maire, ordered him to knock off all work and all smoking for at least three months. He will give evidence to this effect at the inquest. Mr. Parrish disregarded these orders as he was wishful to put through his scheme for Hornaway’s before taking a rest. Mr. Jeekes can prove that. In these circumstances, my lady....” “Well?” Lady Margaret, in her black crêpe de chine dress, setting off the silvery whiteness of her hair, was a calm, unemotional figure as she sat in her lacquer chair. “Well?” she asked again. “Well,” said the detective, “the verdict will be one of ‘Suicide whilst of unsound mind,’ and in my opinion the medical evidence will be sufficient to bring that in. There will not be occasion, I fancy, my lady, to probe any farther into the motives of Mr. Parrish’s action....” “And are you personally satisfied”—Mary’s voice broke in clear and unimpassioned—“are you personally satisfied, Mr. Manderton, that Mr. Parrish shot himself?” The detective cast an appealing glance at the tips of his well-burnished boots. “Yes, Miss, I think I may say I am....” “And what about the evidence of Bude, who said he heard voices in the library....” Mr. Manderton gave his shoulders the merest suspicion of a shrug, raised his hands, and dropped them to his sides. “I had hoped, my lady,” he said, throwing a glance at Lady Margaret, “and you, Miss, that I had made it clear that in the circumstances we need not pursue that matter any further....” Lady Margaret rose. Her dominating personality seemed to fill the room. “We are extremely obliged to you, Mr. Manderton,” she said, “for the able and discreet way in which you have handled this case. I sometimes meet the Chief Commissioner at dinner. I shall write to Sir Maurice and tell him my opinion.” Mr. Manderton reddened a little. “Your ladyship is too good,” he said. Lady Margaret bowed to signify that the interview was at an end. But Mary Trevert left her side and walked to the door. “Will you come downstairs with me, Mr. Manderton,” she said. “I should like to speak to you alone for a minute!” She led the way downstairs through the hall and out into the drive. A pale sun shone down from a grey and rainy sky, and the damp breeze blowing from the sodden trees played among the ringlets of her dark hair.