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Rh “My dear sir,” replied Dr. Rolleston, “she asserts nothing. She sits there like Niobe changed to stone, staring straight before her. She seems to be unaware of the presence of everyone except Miss Beverley. The only words she has spoken since recovering consciousness have been, ‘Don’t leave me!’”

“Hm,” muttered Harley. “You have not attended Madame de Stämer before, doctor?”

“No,” was the reply, “this is the first time I have entered Cray’s Folly since it was occupied by Sir James Appleton.”

He was about to take his departure when the door opened and Inspector Aylesbury walked in.

“Ah,” said he, “I have two more witnesses to interview: Madame de Stämer and Miss Beverley. From these witnesses I hope to get particulars of the dead man’s life which may throw some light upon the identity of his murderer.”

“It is impossible to see either of them at present,” replied Dr. Rolleston briskly.

“What’s that, doctor?” asked the Inspector. “Are they hysterical, or something?”

“As a result of the shock, Madame de Stämer is dangerously ill,” replied the physician, “and Miss Beverley is remaining with her.”

“Oh, I see. But Miss Beverley could come out for a few minutes?”

“She could,” admitted the physician, sharply, “but I don’t wish her to do so.”

“Oh, but the law must be served, doctor.”

“Quite so, but not at the expense of my patient’s reason.”

He was a resolute man, this country practitioner, and I saw Harley smiling in grim approval.