"Was it addressed?" Gifford put the question quickly, almost eagerly.
"No," Henshaw answered. "I wish it had been. In that case we should be near the end of the mystery."
Kelson was staring at the glib speaker with astounded eyes. "Do you suppose a woman killed your brother?" he almost gasped.
"Such things have been known," Henshaw returned with the flicker of an enigmatical smile. "But no, I don't suggest that—yet. At present I have got no farther than the conviction that Clement did not kill himself. I mean to find out for whom that note of his was intended."
"Not an easy task," Gifford remarked, with his eye furtively on Kelson, who had become strangely interested.
"It may or may not be easy," Henshaw returned. "But it is to be done. The woman who, intentionally or otherwise, drew my brother down here has to be found, and I mean to find her."
Kelson was now staring almost stupidly at Gifford.
"Neither of you gentlemen saw my brother dancing?" Henshaw demanded sharply.
"I saw nothing of him at all in the ballroom," Gifford answered, "as I did not arrive till about midnight. Did you see him, Harry?" he asked, as though with the design of rousing Kelson from his rather suspicious attitude.
Kelson seemed to pull himself together by an effort.