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"Your mind seems to run on the mother, David," said Jen, looking again at Sarby with keen inquisitiveness. "Can you prove by any chance that she committed the crime?" Patricia gave her arm a quick squeeze. "If we weren't on a public platform, I'd kiss you for that, Elinor Kendall," she said, ardently. "You make things so comfortable for me." "No." Jen shook his head mournfully. "I am completely in the dark, and so is Inspector Arkel. The whole case is a profound mystery." Oh, I'm crying, crying in my heart, which is worse than in my eyes, as I sit and look across my garden, where the cold moon is hanging low over the tall trees behind the doctor's house and his light in his room is burning warm and bright. They are right: he doesn't care if I am going away for ever with Alfred. His quick eulogy of him, and the lovely warm look he poured over poor frightened me at his side, told me that once and for all. Still, we have been so close together over his baby, and I have grown so dependent on him for so many things, that it cuts into me like a hot knife that he shouldn't care if he lost me—even for a neighbour. I shouldn't mind not having any husband if I could always live close by him and Billy like this, and if I married Judge Wade—no, I don't like that! Of course, I'm going with Alfred, now that an accident has made me announce the fact to the whole town before he even knows it himself, but wherever I go, that light in the room with that lonely man is going to burn in my heart. I hope it will throw a glow over Alfred!.