“The whole affair is strange—­the strangest I ever knew.  But that isn’t against it.  It’s the commonplace case which baffles.  We shall get the key to the whole mystery yet.”

“I’ve no doubt.  Is Mr. Travis to be detained?”

“Yes, as witness.”

“Does he object?”

“Not at all.  Having spoken—­told his whole story, as he says—­he is rather glad than otherwise to be relieved from the common curiosity of strangers.  He’s a rare bird, Gryce.  If he stops to think, he must see that he stands in a more or less ticklish position.  But he does not betray by look or action any doubt of our entire belief in the truth of all his statements.  His only trouble seems to be that he has lost, by these inhuman means, the girl upon whom he had set his heart.  To-morrow we will confront him with Mrs. Taylor.  She should be able to say whether he did or did not stand out in the open gallery at the moment Miss Willetts fell.”

But Mr. Gryce had no encouragement to give him on this head.

“Mrs. Taylor is ill—­very ill, as I take it.  I stopped at her hotel to inquire.  I was anxious about her for more than one reason and the report I got of her condition was far from favorable.  She is suffering cruelly from shock.  How occasioned, whether by the peculiar and startling death to which she was a witness or by the strangely coincident fancy to which she herself attributes her deep emotion, will have to be decided by further developments.  Nothing which I was able to learn from doctor or nurse settled this interesting question.  Meanwhile, no one is allowed to see her—­or will be till she is on the direct road to recovery.  Let us hope that this may be soon, or the inquest may be delayed indefinitely.”

“I don’t know as that is to be deplored.  I imagine we shall find enough to fill in our time....  Any communications made by her before she collapsed?  Did she send out or receive messages of any kind since her return from the museum?”

“She received none; but it is impossible to say whether or not she sent any out.  There is a letter-chute very near her door.  She may have dropped a letter in that any time before a watch was put upon her.  You are thinking, of course, of the anxiety she expressed about her husband, and whether she took any measures for ascertaining if her fears for him had any foundation in fact?”

“I was, yes; but I presume this fancy had passed, or else she is too ill to remember her own aberrations.  Were you able to effect an understanding with her nurse?”

“Yes; that’s fixed.  I had a short talk, too, with the proprietor of the hotel.  He thinks very highly of Mrs. Taylor.  She has lived in the one apartment for years, and he cannot say enough of her discreet and uniform life.  Though she made no secret of the fact that she does not live with her husband, her conduct has always been such as to insure universal respect.  He did not even make mention of eccentricities.  If she is crazy, it is a late development.  She seemed to have been all right up to this morning.  Whichever way you turn, you encounter mystery and a closed door.”