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many moments before Felix recovered himself. Raising his white face he looked at his cousin Blodwen, who was regarding him with more surprise than sympathy, with an apologetic smile.
    â€œHe—he wasn’t really such a bad chap,” he said to her, as if in extenuation of his own weakness, and bit his lip and seemed to make a strong effort to regain his poise.
    â€œAnd now,” he went on, turning to Dr. Browning, “I suppose they’re all trying to find out who did it. I suppose we shall have all Scotland Yard down here sooner or later. Is there any clue?”
    â€œNot so far as I know,” answered the doctor. “His wrist-watch and gold cigarette-case are untouched, and there’s five pounds in his breast-pocket. So robbery wasn’t the motive.”
    â€œHow?”
    â€œThe poor fellow was shot in the head,” Dr. Browning replied to the unspoken question. “At the base of the skull, at very close range. And afterwards, apparently, thrown over the quarry edge. He was found lying face downwards upon the stones at the foot. He’s”—the doctor hesitated—”dreadfully knocked about, poor chap. The only thing which can he regarded as a clue so far is that his gold signet-ring is missing. I noticed yesterday at tea that he was wearing a large gold ring with a blood-stone seal.”
    â€œYes, I noticed it too. Missing, is it?”
    â€œYes. Though it’s hard to imagine why anybody should take it, and leave the gold cigarette-case, which is certainly more valuable.”
    â€œIt might have slipped off,” said Felix without interest. “Good morning, Superintendent,” he added, getting up, John noticed, with a sort of nervous alacrity as that officer entered the room. “This is a horrible affair.”
    â€œIt is that, sir,” agreed the officer gravely. “And a mysterious affair, too, so far as appears at present.” Superintendent Lovell was a thin, hatchet-faced man of fifty, with the sort of quiet, reserved and rather autocratic bearing that inspires confidence. John liked his looks, but thought he would be a man difficult to get on with. There was obstinacy as well as integrity in his long tranquil face, and he had the straight mouth and perfectly level eyebrows that usually imply a lack of the sense of humour.
    â€œI’m afraid I must ask you to come and view the body, sir,” added Lovell, “as Mr. Morris Price is away. I’m afraid there’s no doubt as to the identity, though.”
    â€œNone in my mind,” murmured Dr. Browning, noticing a gleam of animation appear on Felix’s face, as if the policeman’s words had inspired him with the hope that the dead man might, after all, prove to be a stranger.
    â€œBut we should like you to identify him for certain,” finished Superintendent Lovell, and opened the door.
    Felix glanced at John as if he would be glad of his support, and John rose and accompanied him to the door.
    â€œI think,” said Blodwen Price in her crisp, matter-of-fact voice, “I had better come too.”
    The four men looked at her in surprise, and Dr. Browning with dismay as well.
    â€œOh, really, Miss Price,” he objected, “there is no need for you to undergo such a horrible experience!” He glanced at the Superintendent for support. He was an old-fashioned man, and while in theory he believed in the equality of the sexes, in practice he was very far from such a standpoint. He was well aware that Blodwen was a stronger, stabler character than Felix; yet her cool proposal to share her cousin’s misfortune outraged his deepest feelings. “I don’t think you realize,” he added earnestly, “what it will be like.”
    â€œYes, I do,” said Blodwen simply. “Is there any objection to my seeing my brother, Superintendent?”
    â€˜â€˜None whatever,” answered Lovell with profound indifference, much to Dr.