“Just so. And I cannot discover, and do not believe, that she is in any condition of health to cause this. I believe that the evil is being daily induced,” emphatically continued Dr. Knox. “And if she does not herself induce it, by taking improper things, they are being administered to her by others. You will not admit the first theory, Mr. Tamlyn?”
“No, that I will not. Lady Jenkins no more takes baneful drugs of her own accord than I take them.”
“Then the other theory must come up. It draws the point to a narrow compass, but to a more startling one.”
“Look here, Arnold. If I did admit the first theory you would be no nearer the light. Lady Jenkins could not obtain drugs, and be everlastingly swallowing them, without detection. Madame St. Vincent would have found her out in a day.”
“Yes.”
“And would have stopped it at once herself, or handed it over to me to be dealt with. She is truly anxious for Lady Jenkins, and spares no pains, no time, no trouble for her.”
“I believe that,” said Dr. Knox. “Whatsoever is being done, Madame St. Vincent is kept in the dark—just as much as we are. Who else is about her?”
“No one much but her maid, that I know of,” replied old Tamlyn, after a pause of consideration. “And I should think she was as free from suspicion as madame herself. It seems a strange thing.”
“It is. But I fear I am right. The question now will be, how are we to set about solving the mystery?”
“She is not quite always in a lethargic state,” observed Tamlyn, his thoughts going off at a tangent.