bedroom; but beyond the fact that her name was Jane Harding, and that
she had not returned to her home in Lincolnshire, the police could find
no further clue.
So, in brief, Jane Harding quickly joined Lady Dyke in the limbo of
forgetfulness.
Bruce, however, forgot nothing. Indeed, he rejoiced at this new
development.
"The greater the apparent mystery," he communed, "the less it is in
reality. We now have two tracks to follow. They are both hidden, it is
true, but when we find one, it will probably intersect the other."
The new year was a few days old when Bruce made his first step through
the bewildering maze which seemed to bar progress on every side. He
received a report from the man, a pensioned police-officer, who had
conducted a painstaking search into the history and occupation of every
inhabitant of Raleigh Mansions.
Two items the barrister fastened on to at once. 
  "At No. 12, top floor right, entrance by first door on Sloane
    Square side, is a small flat occupied by a man named Sydney H.
    Corbett. He passes as an American, but is probably an Englishman
    who has resided in the United States. He does not mix with other
    Americans in London, and is of irregular habits. He frequents
    race meetings and sporting clubs, is reported to belong to a
    Piccadilly club where high play is the rule, and has no definite
    occupation. He occasionally visits a lady who lives at No. 61,
    same mansions, ground floor, and sixth door. They have been
    heard to quarrel seriously, and the dispute appears always to
    have concerned money. Corbett went to Monte Carlo early in
    December. His address there is 'Hotel du Cercle,' and the local
    post-office has a supply of stamped and addressed envelopes in
    which to forward his correspondence.
  "At No. 61, as already described, resides Mrs. Gwendoline
    Hillmer. She lives in good style, rents a brougham and a
    victoria, and is either a wealthy widow or maintained by some
    one of means. She dresses well, and goes out a good deal to
    theatres, but otherwise leads a rather lonely life. Her most
    frequent visitor is, or was, a gentleman who looked like an
    officer in the Guards, and, much less often, the aforesaid
    Sydney H. Corbett. Her servants, except the maid, live out. The
    maid, who is a sort of companion, is talkative, but does not
    know much, or, if she does, will not speak."

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