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240 "I realize how difficult it is for you to face, but there is no alternative." The detective spoke very gently. "Some one of the household is guilty, and it is my business to discover the identity of that person before another tragedy comes. I will not distress you by asking for details which the others have already given me of the events of the past month; but there is just one question I should like to put to you, and I want you to think back very carefully before you reply. Can you recall the slightest incident, the most trivial remark on the part of anyone, no matter who, which might lead you now to think that they possessed some personal knowledge of the truth?"

For a moment Nan reflected, while Odell watched the ever-changing play of expression on her childishly mobile face. The mingling of horror and grief gave place to a look of forced concentration, as if, in obedience to his request, she was indeed reviewing each tragic episode in her mind and striving to recall a possible clue. All at once a startled gleam quivered like a flame from her eyes and she caught her breath sharply. Then the light dulled and she shook her head.

"No, Sergeant Odell. There was nothing, nothing that anyone said or did at any time which could have made me think such a thing."

Ten minutes later as the detective went briskly down the steps of the house he mentally catalogued that flitting expression for future reference. It was the only point which his interview with Nan Chalmers had elicited, yet it was a pregnant one. She had remembered something, some act or word on the part of one of those about her which con-