Sproot considered the matter.
"That's difficult to say, sir. But I would go so far as to venture the opinion that Miss Sibella intends to remain in Atlantic City for a month or more."
Vance nodded with satisfaction.
"And now, Sproot," he said, "I have a particularly important question to ask you. When you first went into Miss Ada's room on the night she was shot and found her on the floor before the dressing-table, was the window open? Think! I want a positive answer. You know the window is just beside the dressing-table and overlooks the steps leading to the stone balcony. Was it open or shut?"
Sproot contracted his brows and appeared to be recalling the scene. Finally he spoke, and there was no doubt in his voice.
"The window was open, sir. I recall it now quite distinctly. After Mr. Chester and I had lifted Miss Ada to the bed, I closed it at once for fear she would catch cold."
"How far open was the window?" asked Vance with eager impatience.
"Eight or nine inches, sir, I should say. Perhaps a foot."
"Thank you, Sproot. That will be all. Now please tell the cook I want to see her."
Mrs. Mannheim came in a few minutes later, and Vance indicated a chair near the desk-light. When the woman had seated herself he stood before her and fixed her with a stern, implacable gaze.
"Frau Mannheim, the time for truth-telling has come. I am here to ask you a few questions, and un-
