‘And so?’ she asked. “Ruin me? Think of me with fondness? Are you dying of cancer or something?” He demanded. He picked up the broken fiddle and beckoned. He looked at his port wine as though that tawny ruby contained the solution of the matter. ” “The inference is, then,” the detective said smoothly, “that this man obtained admission to your rooms by means of a false key, that he burnt some papers here and shot himself within a few moments of your return. This I know for at the Valade estate it was talked of very much, even that they supposed me there to be the daughter of Suzanne.
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