“I see.” John Evan had been Monk's most loyal friend at the time of his own trouble, and would not have dismissed this woman could he have helped her.

“How long since you saw or heard from your husband, Mrs. Stonefield?” he asked gravely.

The shadow of a smile crossed her features and was gone. Perhaps it was a reflection in the change in his own expression.

“Three days, Mr. Monk,” she said quietly. “I know that is not long, and he has been away from home often before, and for longer, sometimes up to a week. But this is different. Always before he has informed me, and left provision for us, and of course he left instructions for Mr. Arbuthnot at his place of business. Never before has he missed an appointment, or failed to leave authority and direction so Mr. Arbuthnot might act in his absence.” She leaned forward, almost unaware of the charming tilting of the hoops of her skirt. “He did not expect to be gone, Mr. Monk, and he has contacted no one!”

He felt a considerable sympathy for her, but the most practical way he could help was to learn as many of the facts as she was able to give him.

“At what time of the day did you last see him?” he asked.

“At breakfast, about eight o'clock in the morning,” she replied. “That was January the eighteenth.”

It was now the twenty-first.

“Did he say where he intended going, Mrs. Stonefield?”

She took a deep breath, and he saw her folded hands in her lap clasp each other more firmly in their neat white gloves. “Yes, Mr. Monk. He went from home to his place of business. From there he told Mr. Arbuthnot that he was going to see his brother.”

“Did he call upon his brother often?” he asked. It seemed an unremarkable occurrence.

“He was in the habit of visiting him at irregular intervals,” she replied.

She looked up, staring at him intently, as if the meaning of this were so vital to her she could not believe it would not have the same impact on him. “As long as I have known him,” she added, her voice dropping and becoming husky. “You see, they are twins.”