a life term in Sing Sing which I have understood there was grave doubt in the minds of the experts.  Mind, I am not trying to question the results of your work except as they might naturally be questioned in court.  It seems to me that the volatility of chloroform might very possibly preclude its discovery after a short time.  Then again, might not other substances be generated in a dead body which would give a reaction very much like chloroform?  We must consider all these questions before we abandon the poison theory, sir.  Remember, this is the summer time too, and chloroform would evaporate very much more rapidly now than in winter.”

Kennedy smiled, but his confidence remained unshaken.

“I am in a position to meet all of your objections,” he explained simply.  “I think I could lay it down as a rule that by proper methods chloroform may be discovered in the viscera much longer after death than is commonly supposed—­in summer from six days to three weeks, with a practical working range of say twelve days, while in winter it may be found even after several months—­by the right method.  Certainly this case comes within the average length of time.  More than that, no substance is generated by the process of decomposition which will vitiate the test for chloroform which I have just made.  Chloroform has an affinity for water and is also a preservative, and hence from all these facts I think it safe to conclude that sometimes traces of it may be found for two weeks after its administration, certainly for a few days.”

“And Madame de Nevers?” queried the coroner, as if the turn of events was necessitating a complete reconstruction of his theory of the case.

“Was murdered,” completed Kennedy in a tone that left nothing more to be said on the subject.

“But,” persisted the coroner, “if she was murdered by the use of chloroform, how do you account for the fact that it was done without a struggle?  There were no marks of violence and I, for one, do not believe that under ordinary circumstances any one will passively submit to such an administration without a hard fight.”

From his pocket Kennedy drew a small pasteboard box filled with tiny globes, some bonbons and lozenges, a small hypodermic syringe, and a few cigars and cigarettes.  He held it out in the palm of his hand so that we could see it.

“This,” he remarked, “is the standard equipment of the endormeur.  Whoever obtained admittance to Madame’s rooms, either as a matter of course or secretly, must have engaged her in conversation, disarmed suspicion, and then suddenly she must have found a pocket handkerchief under her nose.  The criminal crushed a globe of liquid in the handkerchief, the victim lost consciousness, the chloroform was administered without a struggle, all marks of identification were obliterated, the body was placed in the closet, and the maid—­either as principal or accessory—­took the most likely means of postponing discovery by paying the bill in advance at the office, and then disappeared.”