THE WISDOM OF FATHER BROWN
satins of a Renascence design; she had golden hair in two long shining ropes, and a face so startlingly pale between them that she might have been chryselephantine—made, that is, like some old Greek statues, out of ivory and gold. But her eyes were very bright, and her voice, though low, was confident.
"Father Brown?" she said.
"Mrs. Boulnois?" he replied gravely. Then he looked at her and immediately said, "I see you know about Sir Claude."
"How do you know I know?" she asked steadily.
He did not answer the question, but asked another: "Have you seen your husband?"
"My husband is at home," she said. "He has nothing to do with this."
Again he did not answer; and the woman drew nearer to him, with a curiously intense expression on her face.
"Shall I tell you something more?" she said, with a rather fearful smile. "I don't think he did it, and you don't either."
Father Brown returned her gaze with a long, grave stare, and then nodded, yet more gravely.
"Father Brown," said the lady, "I am going to tell you all I know, but I want you to do me a favour first. Will you tell me why you haven't jumped to the conclusion of poor John's guilt, as
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