No one said a word, until at last I broke the silence.  “I know from the gossip of the Star office that many Williston people say that Marian was very jealous of her sister Laura for capturing the catch of the season.  Williston people don’t hesitate to hint at it.”

Whitney produced another document from that fertile green bag.  It was another affidavit.  He handed it to us.  It was a statement signed by Mrs. Wainwright, and read: 

“Before God, my daughter Marian is innocent.  If you wish to find out all, find out more about the past history of Mr. Templeton before he became engaged to Laura.  She would never in the world have committed suicide.  She was too bright and cheerful for that, even if Mr. Templeton had been about to break off the engagement.  My daughters Laura and Marian were always treated by Mr. Wainwright and myself exactly alike.  Of course they had their quarrels, just as all sisters do, but there was never, to my certain knowledge, a serious disagreement, and I was always close enough to my girls to know.  No, Laura was murdered by someone outside.”

Kennedy did not seem to attach much importance to this statement.  “Let us see,” he began reflectively.  “First, we have a young woman especially attractive and charming in both person and temperament.  She is just about to be married and, if the reports are to be believed, there was no cloud on her happiness.  Secondly, we have a young man whom everyone agrees to have been of an ardent, energetic, optimistic temperament.  He had everything to live for, presumably.  So far, so good.  Everyone who has investigated this case, I understand, has tried to eliminate the double-suicide and the suicide-and-murder theories.  That is all right, providing the facts are as stated.  We shall see, later, when we interview the coroner.  Now, Mr. Whitney, suppose you tell us briefly what you have learned about the past history of the two unfortunate lovers.”

“Well, the Wainwrights are an old Westchester family, not very wealthy, but of the real aristocracy of the county.  There were only two children, Laura and Marian.  The Templetons were much the same sort of family.  The children all attended a private school at White Plains, and there also they met Schuyler Vanderdyke.  These four constituted a sort of little aristocracy in the school.  I mention this, because Vanderdyke later became Laura’s first husband.  This marriage with Templeton was a second venture.”

“How long ago was she divorced?” asked Craig attentively.

“About three years ago.  I’m coming to that in a moment.  The sisters went to college together, Templeton to law school, and Vanderdyke studied civil engineering.  Their intimacy was pretty well broken up, all except Laura’s and Vanderdyke’s.  Soon after he graduated he was taken into the construction department of the Central Railroad by his uncle, who was a vice-president, and Laura and he were married.  As far as I can learn he had been a fellow of convivial habits at college, and about two years after their marriage his wife suddenly became aware of what had long been well known in Williston, that Vanderdyke was paying marked attention to a woman named Miss Laporte in New York.