"And this one is red, madam," said the sheriff, with a glance at
the coroner. Drake nodded his head. Mrs. Wrandall's body stiffened
perceptibly, as if deflecting a blow. "It is still standing in the
garage, where he left it on his arrival."

"Did no one see the face of--of the woman?" asked Mrs. Wrandall,
rather querulously. "It seems odd that no one should have seen her
face," she went on without waiting for an answer.

"It's not strange, madam, when you consider ALL the circumstances.
She was very careful not to remove her veil or her coat until the
door was locked. That proves that she was not the sort of woman
we usually find gallavanting around with men regardless of--ahem,
I beg your pardon. This must be very distressing to you."

"I am not sure, Mr. Sheriff, that it IS my husband who lies up
there. Please remember that," she said steadily. "It is easier to
hear the details now, before I KNOW, than it will be afterward if
it should turn out to be as Mr. Drake declares."

"I see," said the sheriff, marvelling.

"Besides, Mr. Drake is not POSITIVE," put in the coroner hopefully.

"I am reasonably certain," said Drake.

"Then all the more reason why I should have the story first," said
she, with a shiver that no one failed to observe.