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Rh with its problems crowding fast upon each other's heels. He had acquired a bewildering amount of data, most of which must in the end prove to be irrelevant; but he had made progress in one direction at least, and there remained just one more point to be cleared up before he handed in his report of the morning's progress to his chief.

Doctor Adams's office, the address of which he had learned in that last hasty glimpse at the telephone book, was a most imposing one; but the reception room was practically empty owing to the lateness of the hour, and soon Odell was ushered into the private consulting-office.

The doctor proved to be a small, genial man of about sixty, with a shock of snow-white hair and keen twinkling dark eyes beneath bushy white brows.

"From Police Headquarters?" he repeated when his visitor had disclosed his identity.

"Yes, Doctor. We have been asked to inquire into the death of Mrs. Richard Lorne."

"Dear me!" The doctor shook his head. "The medical examiner was quite satisfied with my report and that of the specialists. This will be a sad blow to the family. I cannot think who—"

"It was the family themselves who asked for an investigation," Odell remarked. "I believe that the cause of Mrs. Lorne's death was not fully determined."

"Most certainly it was!" the little doctor replied indignantly. "She died from blood-poisoning. We were all agreed upon that."

"Yet you were unable to check it," Odell reminded him quietly. "Were you all agreed also upon the nature of the poison involved?"