or two, Rosamond Sayre had ended her earthly career.
As Madeleine Barham had died at her hand, so Rosamond Sayre owed her own death to the cruelty and crime of her friend.
“It all proved up,” Lane said, in telling Andrew Barham of the suicide. “She had been, among many others, a victim of Mrs. Barham’s blackmail. She had reached the very end of her patience and her resources. She hoped to be present at a mortifying disclosure at the studio, and thought that possibly she could make a sort of deal, later, with Mrs. Barham, if there was a secret to be kept.
“Also, she said that Mrs. Barham discovered the scarab on the table in the den. That she had taken it, knowing it was her husband’s and planning to use it as corroboration of her suspicion that he was Locke himself. So, Mrs. Barham had the stone in her hand when she fell. Miss Cutler, as she has told, took it from the dead woman, knowing it to be valuable, and a prized possession of Locke’s.”
“It’s all true,” Barham said, “and here is my part of the story. I did not recognize my wife at all, though I saw the lady in the Oriental costume. But I did recognize Rosamond Sayre. I knew her costume, having seen it recently, and under the edge of her mask I saw enough of her face to recognize her beyond all possibility of mistake. So, I instantly assumed that she had learned my secret and was there to confound me with its disclosure. I concluded at once to go away forever. I had no thought of my wife’s being there—I didn’t think to get the scarab, which was about the only thing there that could connect me with Andrew Barham. I merely tossed my monk’s robe to Charley and walked off. I had no
