No matter what private purpose the man might serve by concealing his visit to Mrs.Lester, it ought to give way before the paramount importance of tracking a pitiless and callous criminal.
So Theydon hardened his heart and went to bed, and, being sound in mind and constitution, slept like a just man wearied.

Nevertheless, the last thing he saw before the curtain fell on his tired brain was an ivory skull dancing in the darkness.
Greatly as the many problems attached to Mrs.Lester's death bewildered him, he would have been even more perplexed if he had overheard the conversation between Winter and Furneaux when they entered a taxi and gave Scotland Yard as their destination.
"Look here, Charles," began Winter firmly; but the other stayed him with a clutch of thin, nervous fingers on an arm strong enough to fell an ox.
"Listen first, James--lecture me afterward," pleaded Furneaux.

"I can't help yielding to impulse.

And why should I strive to help it, anyhow?
How often has impulse led me to the goal when by every known rule of evidence I was completely beaten?
That is my plea.

That is why I brought that young fellow into No.