"Look at that!" "Who--who the devil are you ?" he gasped.

"What's all this ?" "I think," remarked Constance slowly and quietly, "that your wife is now in a position to prove that you--well, don't come into court with clean hands, if you attempt to do so.

Besides, you know, the courts rather frown on detectives that practice collusion and conspiracy and frame up evidence, to say nothing of trying to blackmail the victims.

I thought perhaps you'd prefer not to say anything about this--er--visit to-night--after you saw that." Constance had quietly laid one of the erased checks on the library table.

Again she dipped the sponge into the brownish liquid.