"You want me to help you out, eh?"
"Yes, please. You know who Mr. Brown is, don't you?"
"Yes," said Sir James gravely. "At last I do."
"At last?" queried Tuppence doubtfully. "Oh, but I thought—" She paused.
"You thought correctly, Miss Tuppence. I have been morally certain of his identity for some time—ever since the night of Mrs. Vandemeyer's mysterious death."
"Ah!" breathed Tuppence.
"For there we are up against the logic of facts. There are only two solutions. Either the chloral was administered by her own hand, which theory I reject utterly, or else—"