“And did they recover?”
He hesitated, then looking at me gravely he answered: “No; unfortunately they did not One woman, whose symptoms were similar, had murdered her child. The other had so severely injured her husband by throwing a lighted lamp at him that he is incurable. Both are now at Woking Asylum.”
“Is there no hope for them?”
“None. In each case I made the arrest, and the doctor afterward told me that their condition of mind was consequent upon the realisation of the enormity of their crimes.”
Dora’s symptoms were the same as those of murderesses. Such suggestion was appalling.
“Do you then suspect that Lady Stretton’s daughter, Mabel, is—has committed a crime?”
“Hardly that,” he replied, quickly. “We must, I think, seek for the guilty one in another quarter.” He seemed to speak with conviction.
“In which quarter?” I eagerly inquired.
“I have formed no definite opinion at present,” he replied quietly. “If we can induce your lady friend to speak rationally for a few minutes she may confirm or dispel my suspicions. Our discoveries this evening have made one fact plain, and they will be the cause of the withdrawal of one warrant,” he added, looking at me with a curious smile.
“For whose arrest?”