"Suicide," was the reply. "No question of it. It happened in this room," and he led the way into the third room of the suite. "The maid, Miss Regnier, occupied this, and was here alone last night. Mr. and Mrs. Standing, her employers, have gone to New York for a few days. She was left alone, and killed herself."
Without further questioning The Thinking Machine went over to the bed, from which the girl's body had been taken, and, stooping beside it, picked up a book. It was a novel by "The Duchess." He examined this critically, then, standing on a chair, he examined the gas jet. This done, he stepped down and went to the window of the little room. Finally The Thinking Machine turned to the detective.
"Just how much was the gas turned on?" he asked.
"Turned on full," was the reply.
"Were both the doors of the room closed?"
"Both, yes."
"Any cotton, or cloth, or anything of the sort stuffed in the cracks of the window?"
"No. It's a tight-fitting window, anyway. Are you trying to make a mystery out of this?"
"Cracks in the doors stuffed?" The Thinking Machine went on.
"No." There was a smile about the detective's lips.