I must know and understand; I might then be able to act.

Certainly, I could not act beneficently without a just conception and recognition of the facts.
Arranged in order these were as follows: Firstly: the strange likeness of Queen Tera to Margaret who had been born in another country a thousand miles away, where her mother could not possibly have had even a passing knowledge of her appearance.
Secondly: the disappearance of Van Huyn's book when I had read up to the description of the Star Ruby.
Thirdly: the finding of the lamps in the boudoir.

Tera with her astral body could have unlocked the door of Corbeck's room in the hotel, and have locked it again after her exit with the lamps.

She could in the same way have opened the window, and put the lamps in the boudoir.

It need not have been that Margaret in her own person should have had any hand in this; but--but it was at least strange.
Fourthly: here the suspicions of the Detective and the Doctor came back to me with renewed force, and with a larger understanding.
Fifthly: there were the occasions on which Margaret foretold with accuracy the coming occasions of quietude, as though she had some conviction or knowledge of the intentions of the astral-bodied Queen.
Sixthly: there was her suggestion of the finding of the Ruby which her father had lost.