"Very shortly afterwards you left your carriage in Pall
Mall, and without even asking for your husband you called at his
hotel--you stole up into his room."
"I took some roses there and left them," she said "What of that?"
"Only that you were the last person seen to enter Mr. Sabin's rooms
before Duson was found there dead. And Duson died from a dose of
that same poison, a packet of which you procured secretly from Emil
Sachs. An empty wineglass was by his side--it was one generally
used by Mr. Sabin. I know that the English police, who are not so
foolish as people would have one believe, are searching now for the
woman who was seen to enter the sitting-room shortly before Mr.
Sabin returned and found Duson there dead."
She laughed scornfully.
"It is ingenious," she admitted, "and perhaps a little unfortunate
for me. But the inference is ridiculous. What interest had I in
the man's death?"
"None, of course!" the Prince said. "But, Lucille, in all cases
of poisoning it is the wife of whom one first thinks!"
"The wife? I did not even know that the creature had a wife."
"Of course not! But Duson drank from Mr. Sabin's glass, and you
are Mr. Sabin's wife. You are living apart from him. He is old
and you are young. And for the other man--there is Reginald Brott.
Your names have been coupled together, of course.
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