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pretty clear that Doon might be going to die. I thought this—this person that I rang up was still a great friend of Doon’s, but, as it turned out, he wasn’t any longer; well, then,” said Judy, getting deeper and deeper into the mire, “he said—well, I ought to explain to you that he used to be a friend of mine —and he said he would come round and see me, but as it was a bit late then, my mother said he had better come to-day; well, his idea of to-day was before breakfast this morning, so you see my mother rang up Christophe’s … oh dear,” cried Judy, breaking down completely and starting to laugh, “I suppose I’d better be done with it and tell you that this morning, at the unearthly hour of eight o’clock, I got engaged to him.”
    So that was the joy they were bubbling over with, she and her mother. They were rather charming, Charlesworth could not help thinking, so naively and unashamedly happy about the whole affair. It was quite an effort to drag the conversation back to Doon.
    “You can’t think of any way in which she might have taken any of this poison, can you?”
    Now her face took on a wary look: he hated to see it there, so much in contrast with her open, generous manner. She insisted, more emphatically than he quite liked, that she couldn’t imagine how Doon could possibly have taken any oxalic acid. She had never connected it with her death until Miss Gregory had told Mummy about it on the telephone this morning.
    Charlesworth shook hands with her and he and the sergeant went slowly down to the car. Judy and Aileen, Irene, Rachel, Victoria—but not Victoria!—Gregory, Bevan, Cecil, Mrs. ’Arris, Macaroni… was one of them a murderer? Could it have been suicide? Remembering those lovely faces and anxious eyes he could not help wishing that the sergeant’s “something fishy” would turn out to be just an accident after all. But in his heart he knew that that was too much to hope.

Three
    1
    T HAT night at nine-thirty, Charlesworth suddenly let out a wild yell and rushed to the telephone.
    “Louise, my angel—this is too awful! I quite forgot about coming round to see you!”
    “Were you supposed to be coming round to see me?”
    “Well, darling, of course . I’ve got a damn great bunch of daisies here for you. I’ve been coming round ever since I left you last night.”
    “What stopped you, anyway?”
    “I’m on a case, you see; rather a treat it is—it all takes place in a dress shop, a dozen women and two men and one of them’s only half a man.…”
    “I can’t hear a word you’re saying, Charles. Anyway, you can’t start coming round now. The daisies must wait till to-morrow. Come early and have supper.”
    “Oh, my sweet, that’s too marvellous of you. I will if I possibly can; may I leave it that I will if I possibly can? You see, there’s a lot to do on this case, it might keep me late, but if I can manage to get away, of course I’ll come.”
    “My Mr. Charlesworth is cooling off,” said Miss Taylor to her mother as she replaced the receiver. “However, I believe three months is quite a record.”
    “Oh, I’m sorry,” said Miss Taylor’s mother. “Such a nice boy. Who is he transferring his affections to?”
    “To a dozen women and one and a half men,” said Miss Taylor, and gave a little sigh.
    2
    Charlesworth met the sergeant by appointment at the Yard. “Who would be a ruddy detective, Bedd? I sat up half the night with wet towels round my head and all I’ve got out of it is a stiff neck. Just the same, I’ve come to one conclusion—it looks mighty like murder.”
    “You really think that, Mr. Charlesworth, do you?”
    “Yes, I do. The secretary child’s perfectly clear; the packet she took downstairs hasn’t been touched. Doon didn’t take any more when she spoke to the girls at the table—her hands were too full even to take what they offered to her; and she definitely didn’t go out during the day, so she couldn’t have got any