“Nor any woman,” said Elliott.  “But that isn’t the whole thing.  I say, Alvord, since Mr. Stone is on the job, suppose we give him full swing—­and let him find the real murderer.  It wasn’t Eunice!”

His words rang out so vibrantly that Stone gave him a quick glance.  “You’re sure?” he asked, as it seemed, involuntarily.

“I am,” responded Elliott, with a satisfied nod of his handsome head.

“But your being sure doesn’t help much, Mason,” Eunice said, a despondent look coming into her eyes.  “Are you sure, Mr. Stone?”

“I can’t quite answer that question yet, Mrs, Embury,” the courteous voice replied.  “Remember, I’ve only just begun to look into the matter.”

“But you know all about it—­from Mr. Shane and Mr. Driscoll.”

“I know what they think about it—­but that’s a different story.”

“You don’t agree with their deductions, then?” asked Hendricks.

“I don’t agree with their premises—­therefore—­” Stone smiled cryptically, and left the sentence unfinished and ambiguous, which was his deliberate intention.

“We will have coffee in the living-room,” said Eunice, as she rose from the table.  Always a charming hostess, she was at her best to-night.  Her thin black gown was becoming and made her fair throat and arms seem even whiter by contrast.

She stood back, as the others left the room, and Hendricks, tarrying, too, came close to her.

“Brace up, dear,” he said; “it will all come out right.  I’m sorry Elliott dragged in this Stone, but—­it will be all right, somehow.”

“But it’s all so mysterious, Alvord.  I don’t know what to do—­or say—­”

“Don’t lose your temper, Eunice.  Let me advise you strongly as to that.  It never does any good—­it militates against you.  And here’s another thing—­Are you afraid of the little Desternay?”

“Afraid—­how?” but Eunice paled.

“Afraid—­she knows something—­oh, something injurious to—­”

“To me?  She knows heaps!” The haughty head tossed, and Eunice looked defiant.

“You beauty!” and Hendricks took a step nearer.  “Oh, you splendid thing!  How I adore you.  Eunice—­you are a goddess to-night!  And you are for me!  Some day—­oh, I’m not going to say it now—–­don’t look so alarmed—­but, you know—­oh, Sweet, you know!  And you yes, you, too, my splendid Tiger—­“’

“Hush, Alvord!  Never call me that!”

“No, I beg pardon.  And I don’t want to.  That was San’s own name for you.  I shall call you my Queen!  My glorious Queen-woman!”

“Oh, stop!  Don’t you dare make love to me!

“And don’t you dare say ‘dare’ to me!  I dare all—­”

Ferdinand’s entrance cut short this dialogue, and Eunice and Hendricks went into the other room.

Almost immediately a visitor was announced,, and Hanlon came in.

“Why, Mr. Hanlon,” Eunice said, greeting him cordially, “I’m glad to see you again.”