I gained a fresh realization of the beauty of the star as she lay under the dazzling electric glow, and in particular I noticed the small amount of make-up she had used and the natural firmness of her flesh.  She was dressed in a modish, informal dinner dress, of embroidered satin, cut fairly low at front and back and with sleeves of some gauzelike material reaching not halfway to her elbow, hardly sleeves at all, in fact.

Kennedy with his glass went over her features with extreme care.  I saw that he drew her hair back, and that then he parted it, to examine her scalp, and I wondered what infinitesimal clue might be the object of his search.  I had learned, however, never to question him while he was at work.

With his eye glued to his lens he made his way about and around her neck, and down and over her throat and chest so far as it remained unprotected by the silk of her gown.  With the aid of Mackay he turned her over to examine her back.  Next he returned the body to its former position and began to inspect the arms.  Very suddenly something caught his eye on the inside of her right forearm.  He grunted with satisfaction, straightened, pulled the switch of the arc, wiped his eyes, which were watering.

“Find anything, Mr. Kennedy?” Doctor Blake seemed to understand, to some extent, the purpose of the examination.

Kennedy did not answer, probably preoccupied with theories which I could see were forming in his mind.

The library was a huge room of greater length than breadth.  At one end were wide French windows looking out upon the garden and summer house.  The door to the hallway and living room was very broad, with heavy sliding panels and rich portieres of a velours almost the tint of the wood-work.  Between the door, situated in the side wall near the opposite end, and the windows, was a magnificent stone fireplace with charred logs testifying to its frequent use.  The couch where Stella lay had been drawn back from its normal position before the fire, together with a huge table of carved walnut.  The other two walls were an unbroken succession of shelves, reaching to the ceiling and literally packed with books.

Facing the windows and the door, so as to include the fireplace and the wide sweep of the room within range, were two cameras still set up, the legs of their tripods nested, probably left exactly as they were at the moment of Stella’s collapse.  I touched the handle of one, a Bell & Howell, and saw that it was threaded, that the film had not been disturbed.  The lights, staggered and falling away from the camera lines, were arranged to focus their illumination on the action of the scenes.  There were four arcs and two small portable banks of Cooper-Hewitts, the latter used to cut the sharp shadows and give a greater evenness to the photography.  Also there were diffusers constructed of sheets of white cloth stretched taut on frames.  These reflected light upward upon the faces of the actors, softening the lower features, and so valuable in adding to the attractiveness of the women in particular.