"A kind of thing to render a man sleepy," said Dan, musingly. "Or insensible," said Inspector Tenson hastily, and put his nose to the dead man's chin and mouth. He shook his head as he straightened himself. "I fancied from your observation, Mr. Halliday, that the scent might have been used as a kind of chloroform, but there's no smell about the face. It comes from the clothes," he sniffed again, "yes, it certainly comes from the clothes. Did you smell this scent on Mrs. Brown?" he demanded suddenly. "No, I did not," admitted Halliday promptly, "otherwise I should certainly have noted it. I have a keen sense of smell. Mrs. Bolstreath and Lil--I mean Miss Moon--might have noticed it, however." At that moment, as if in answer to her name, the door opened suddenly and Lillian brushed past the policeman in a headlong entrance into the library. Her fair hair was in disorder, her face was bloodless, and her eyes were staring and wild. Behind her came Mrs. Bolstreath hurriedly, evidently trying to restrain her. But the girl would not be restrained, and rushed forward scattering the small group round the dead, to fling herself on the body. "Oh, father, father!" she sobbed, burying her face on the shoulder of her dearly-loved parent. "How awful it is. Oh, my heart will break. How shall I ever get over it. Father! father! father!" She wept and wailed so violently that the four men were touched by her great grief. Both Mr. Durwin and Inspector Tenson had daughters of their own, while the young doctor was engaged. They could feel for her thoroughly, and no one made any attempt to remove her from the body until Mrs. Bolstreath stepped forward. "Lillian, darling. Lillian, my child," she said soothingly, and tried to lead the poor girl away. But Lillian only clung closer to her beloved dead. "No! No! Let me alone. I can't leave him. Poor, dear father--oh, I shall die!" "Dear," said Mrs. Bolstreath, raising her firmly but kindly, "your father is not there but in Heaven! Only the clay remains." "It is all I have. And father was so good, so kind,--oh, who can have killed him in this cruel way?" She looked round with streaming eyes. "We think that a Mrs. Brown--" began the Inspector, only to be answered by a loud cry from the distraught girl. "Mrs. Brown! Then I have killed father! I have killed him! I persuaded him to see the woman, because she was in trouble. And she killed him--oh, the wretch--the--the--oh--oh! What had I done to her that she should rob me of my dear, kind father?" and she cried bitterly in her old friend's tender arms. "Had you ever seen Mrs. Brown before?" asked Durwin in his imperious voice, although he lowered it in deference to her grief.