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He took the ring beneath a light and examined it with his magnifying-glass. There was, he noted, an inscription inside. “Shelah from Denny.” So Denny Mayo came back into the case? Chan shrugged.

When he turned about, he perceived that Julie was weeping silently. Bradshaw had put his arm about her shoulder. “That’s all right, honey,” the boy said. “Charlie believes you. Don’t you, Charlie?”

Chan bowed from the waist. “In the presence of so much charm, could I have brutal doubts? Miss Julie, I am sorrowed to perceive your overwrought state. Mr. Bradshaw and I depart at once, leaving to you the solace of slumber. You have youth, and sleep will come. I bid you most sympathetic good night.”

He disappeared through the curtains, and with a few whispered words to the girl, Bradshaw followed. Jessop, restraining a yawn but firmly polite as always, saw them out. On the steps Charlie stood for a moment, staring at the sky and drawing in a deep breath of the open air.

“It is something to recall,” he said, “that during long painful ordeal in that house, stars were still shining and soft tropic night progressed as usual. What have I not been through? A brief respite will be lovely as soft music in the rain.”

They got into his car, waiting alone and lonely in the drive.

“Pretty much up against it, eh, Charlie?” the boy suggested.

Chan nodded. “Dizzy feeling causes my head to circulate. I have upearthed so much, and yet I have upearthed nothing.” They bowled along, past the Moana Hotel, in unaccustomed darkness now. The pink