"I do."
His eyes stole a little nearer my face. "Well! that is good; go on."
"When I undertook this business of clearing Eleanore Leavenworth from suspicion," I resumed, "it was with the premonition that this person would prove to be her lover; but I had no idea he would prove to be her husband."
Mr. Gryce’s gaze flashed like lightning to the ceiling.
"What!" he ejaculated with a frown.
"The lover of Eleanore Leavenworth is likewise her husband," I repeated. "Mr. Clavering holds no lesser connection to her than that."
"How have you found that out?" demanded Mr. Gryce, in a harsh tone that argued disappointment or displeasure.
"That I will not take time to state. The question is not how I became acquainted with a certain thing, but is what I assert in regard to it true. If you will cast your eye over this summary of events gleaned by me from the lives of these two persons, I think you will agree with me that it is." And I held up before his eyes the following:
"During the two weeks commencing July 6, of the year 1875, and ending July 19, of the same year, Henry R. Clavering, of London, and Eleanore Leavenworth, of New York, were guests of the same hotel. Fact proved by Visitor Book of the Hotel Union at R, New York.
"They were not only guests of the same hotel, but are known to have held more or less communication with each other. Fact proved by such servants now employed in R as were in the hotel at that time.
"July 19. Mr. Clavering left R abruptly, a
