“Here, I think, we may spare a tribute of admiration to Pendean’s histrionics.  I guess that his original conception and creation of ‘Giuseppe Doria’ was an exceedingly fine and well thought out piece of acting.  He actually lived in the character and day after day exhibited qualities of mind and an attitude to life quite foreign to his real rather saturnine and reserved nature.  Both he and his wife were heaven-born comedians as well as hell-born criminals.

“To return; the large particulars, then, were these:  the foreground, the middle distance and the background made a synthetic whole, logically consistent, rational even—­when you allow for the artist’s make-up.  That he will leave a full statement before the end, I venture to prophecy.  His egregious vanity demands it.  Nothing that he writes is likely to be sincere and he’ll have his eye on the spotlight all the time; but you may expect a pretty complete account of his adventures before he’s hanged; you may even expect something a little new in the suicide line if they give him a chance; for be sure he’s thought of that.

“And now I’ll indicate how I brought fact after fact to bombard my theory, and how the theory withstood every assault until I was bound to accept it and act upon it.

“We start with the assumption that Pendean is living and Robert Redmayne dead.  We next assume that Pendean, having laid out his wife’s uncle at Foggintor, gets into his clothes, puts on a red mustache and a red wig and starts for Berry Head on Redmayne’s motor bicycle.  The sack supposed to contain the body is found, and that is all.  His purpose is to indicate a hiding-place for the corpse and lead search in a certain direction; but he is not going to trust the sea; he is not going to stand the risk of Robert Redmayne’s corpse spoiling his game.  No, his victim never left Foggintor and probably Michael will presently tell us where to find the body.

“Meanwhile a false atmosphere is created under which he proceeds to his engagement at ‘Crow’s Nest.’  And then what happens?  The first clue—­the forged letter, purporting to come from Robert Redmayne to his brother.  Who sent it?  Jenny Pendean on her way through Plymouth to her Uncle Bendigo’s home.  She and her husband are soon together again—­working for the next stroke.  As I say, they were a pair who ought to have been on the stage, where they would have made darned sight bigger money than the Redmayne capital all told; but crime was in their blood; they must have met like the blades of a scissors and found themselves heart and soul in agreement.  Evil was their good; and no doubt, when they understood each other’s lawless point of view, both felt they must join forces.  A tolerable bad dame, I’m afraid, Mark; but she knew how to love all right; and nobody doubts that bad women can love as well as good ones—­often a great deal better.