"Ten minutes later there is another ring at the bell. This time it is Arthur Leighton, and Ann Weber has sufficient presence of mind not to let him see that there is anything wrong in the house. She asks him in, she tells him Mr. Jessup cannot see him, she gets him a drink, and sends him off again. I don't suppose for a moment that at this stage she has any intention of using him as a shield for her present sweetheart; but undoubtedly the thought had by now crept into her mind to utilise Leighton's admitted presence in the house for the purpose of confusing the issues. Nor do I think that she had any idea that night that Mr. Jessup was dead. She probably thought that he had only been stunned by a blow from the stick; hence her exclamation when she realised the truth: 'My God, he has killed him!' Then only did she concentrate all her energies and all her wits to saving her sweetheart--even at the cost of another man. Women are like that sometimes," the Old Man in the Corner went on with a chuckle, "the instinct of the primitive woman is first of all to save her man, never mind at whose expense. The cave-man's instinct is to protect his woman with his fists--but she, conscious of physical weakness, sets her wits to work, and if her man is in serious danger she will lie and she will cheat--ay, and perjure herself if need be. And those flirtatious minxes, of which Annie-bird is a striking example, are only cave-women with a veneer of civilisation over them. "She did save her man by dragging a red herring across his trail, and she left Fate to deal with Leighton. Once embarked on a system of lies she had to stick to it or her man was doomed. Fortunately she could rely on the other woman. A mother's wits are even sharper than those of a sweetheart." "A mother?" I ejaculated. "Then you think that it was----?"