LIGHT ON THE SUBJECT

“You will stand at the door and if he… You understand, Suzette?”

“Oui, Madame,” replied the chic maid.

* * * *

“Please, Anthony, do let’s return to town,” pleaded Ethel Warfield. “I simply cannot stand this gloomy old house in the country any longer. Ugh…it gives me the creeps.”

Convalescent Anthony Warfield said: “No, my dear,—you loved this old house before we were married. But now you find it intolerable to remain away from your cafe society ‘friends’ for a few months even when you know what the country means to me. I…”

There was a knock. Suzette entered.

“Pardon, Madame. Your other riding habit—I cannot locate it.”

“It’s in the attic,” Ethel told her. “Please get it.”

* * * *

What a tragedy, thought Fordney, that this once lovely old country house should now be a mass of fire-gutted wreckage.

“Yes, Monsieur?” The maid had quietly entered the summer house.

The Professor crossed his legs. “Tell me about it, Suzette.”

“There is not much. Madame wants her riding habit from the attic. It is old and musty there. My flashlight it fails so I use my cigarette lighter to look about. Suddenly one of those old giant cobwebs caught fire. The flames shot out and ignited some old papers. In a moment—puff!—the attic was on fire.”

“You,” said Fordney observing the girl’s hair, “were fortunate in escaping.”

“My luck, she is always good,” smiled the petite maid.

Fordney shook his head. “This time, the Lady has deserted you, Suzette. Arson will be the charge!”

Why? Turn page for solution.