The latter,
however, seemed now to be glued to his chair, and:
"Oh, I see," he said; "and now there's another point: Have you any idea
what took Colonel Menendez out into the grounds last night?"
Madame de Staemer lowered her hands and gazed across at the speaker.
"What is that, Monsieur l'inspecteur?"
"Well, you don't think he might have gone out to talk to someone?"
"To someone? To what one?" demanded Madame, scornfully.
"Well, it isn't natural for a man to go walking about the garden at
midnight, when he's unwell, is it? Not alone. But if there was a lady
in the case he might go."
"A lady?" said Madame, softly. "Yes--continue."
"Well," resumed the Inspector, deceived by the soft voice, "the young
lady sitting beside you was still wearing her evening dress when I
arrived here last night. I found that out, although she didn't give me
a chance to see her."
His words had an effect more dramatic than he could have foreseen.
Madame de Staemer threw her arm around Val Beverley, and hugged her so
closely to her side that the girl's curly brown head was pressed
against Madame's shoulder. Thus holding her, she sat rigidly upright,
her strange, still eyes glaring across the room at Inspector Aylesbury.
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