“At the inquest it was said that Pine had no enemies.”

“Oh, rubbish.  A strong man like that couldn’t make such a fortune without exciting envy.  I’ll bet that his assassin is to be found in a frock coat and a silk hat.  However, I’ll look up Mother Cockleshell, as it is just as well to know what she thinks of this pretty gypsy hussy of yours.”

“Not of mine.  I don’t care for her in the least.”

“As if that mattered.  There is always one who loves and one who is loved, as Heine says, and that is the cause of all life’s tragedies.  Of this tragedy maybe, although I think some envious stockbroker may have shot Pine as a too successful financial rival.  However, we shall see about it.”

“And see about another thing, Clara,” said Lambert quickly.  “Call on Agnes and tell her that she need not worry over Silver.  She expects the Deluge in a few days, remember.”

“Write and tell her that I have the case in hand and that she needn’t trouble about Silver.  I’ll straighten him out.”

“I fear you are too hopeful.”

“I don’t fear anything of the sort.  I’ll break his neck if he doesn’t obey me.  I wouldn’t hesitate to do it, either.”

Lambert ran his eyes over her masculine personality and laughed.  “I quite believe that, Clara.  But, I say, won’t you have some tea before you go?”

“No, thanks.  I don’t eat between meals.”

“Afternoon tea is a meal.”

“Nonsense.  It’s a weakness.  I’m not Garvington.  By the way, where is he?”

“In Paris, but he returns in a few days.”

“Then don’t let him meddle with this matter, or he’ll put things wrong.”

“I shall allow no one but yourself to meddle, Clara, Garvington shan’t know a single thing.”

Miss Greeby nodded.  “Right.  All we wish kept quiet would be in the papers if Garvington gets hold of our secrets.  He’s a loose-tongued little glutton.  Well, good-bye, old chap, and do look after yourself.  Good people are scarce.”

Lambert gripped her large hand.  “I’m awfully obliged to you, Clara.”

“Wait until I do something before you say that, old son,” she laughed and strode towards the door.  “By the way, oughtn’t I to send the doctor in?”

“No.  Confound the doctor!  I’m all right.  You’ll see me on my legs in a few days.”

“Then we can work together at the case.  Keep your flag flying, old chap, for I’m at the helm to steer the bark.”  And with this nautical farewell she went off with a manly stride, whistling a gay tune.

Left alone, the invalid looked into the fire, and wondered if he had been right to trust her.  After some thought, he concluded that it was the best thing he could have done, since, in his present helpless state, he needed some one to act as his deputy.  And there was no doubt that Miss Greeby had entirely overcome the passion she had once entertained for him.

“I hope Agnes will think so also,” thought Lambert, when he began a letter to the lady.  “She was always rather doubtful of Clara.”