“We know all about where you left her, Leroux,” interrupted Cumberly; “but what we want to get at is this:  what occurred between the time you left her, and the time of our return?”

Exel, who had walked across to the table, and with a horror-stricken face was gingerly examining the victim, now exclaimed:—­

“Why!  Leroux! she is—­she is...  Undressed!”

Leroux clutched at his dishevelled hair with both hands.

“My dear Exel!” he cried—­“my dear, good man!  Why do you use that tone?  You say ‘she is undressed!’ as though I were responsible for the poor soul’s condition!”

“On the contrary, Leroux!” retorted Exel, standing very upright, and staring through his monocle; “on the contrary, you misconstrue me!  I did not intend to imply—­to insinuate—­”

“My dear Exel!” broke in Dr. Cumberly—­“Leroux is perfectly well aware that you intended nothing unkindly.  But the poor chap, quite naturally, is distraught at the moment.  You must understand that, man!”

“I understand; and I am sorry,” said Exel, casting a sidelong glance at the body.  “Of course, it is a delicate subject.  No doubt Leroux can explain."...

“Damn your explanation!” shrieked Leroux hysterically.  “I cannot explain!  If I could explain, I"...

“Leroux!” said Cumberly, placing his arm paternally about the shaking man—­“you are such a nervous subject.  Do make an effort, old fellow.  Pull yourself together.  Exel does not know the circumstances—­”

“I am curious to learn them,” said the M. P. icily.

Leroux was about to launch some angry retort, but Cumberly forced him into the chesterfield, and crossing to a bureau, poured out a stiff peg of brandy from a decanter which stood there.  Leroux sank upon the chesterfield, rubbing his fingers up and down his palms with a curious nervous movement and glancing at the dead woman, and at Exel, alternately, in a mechanical, regular fashion, pathetic to behold.

Mr. Exel, tapping his boot with the head of his inverted cane, was staring fixedly at the doctor.

“Here you are, Leroux,” said Cumberly; “drink this up, and let us arrange our facts in decent order before we—­”

“Phone for the police?” concluded Exel, his gaze upon the last speaker.

Leroux drank the brandy at a gulp and put down the glass upon a little persian coffee table with a hand which he had somehow contrived to steady.

“You are keen on the official forms, Exel?” he said, with a wry smile.  “Please accept my apology for my recent—­er—­outburst, but picture this thing happening in your place!”

“I cannot,” declared Exel, bluntly.

“You lack imagination,” said Cumberly.  “Take a whisky and soda, and help me to search the flat.”

“Search the flat!”

The physician raised a forefinger, forensically.

“Since you, Exel, if not actually in the building, must certainly have been within sight of the street entrance at the moment of the crime, and since Leroux and I descended the stair and met you on the landing, it is reasonable to suppose that the assassin can only be in one place:  Here!”