Jennings having learned all he could, rose.  “Well, Miss Grant,” he said quietly, “I am obliged to you for your frank speaking.  My advice to you is to go home and think no more of Mr. Mallow.  You might as well love the moon.  But you know my address, and should you hear of anything likely to lead you to suspect who killed Miss Loach, Mr. Mallow will make it worth your while to come to me with the information.”

“I’ll do all I can,” said Susan resolutely, “but I won’t take a penny piece, me having my feelings as other and higher ladies.”

“Just as you please.  But Mr. Mallow is about to offer a reward on behalf of his uncle, Lord Caranby.”

“He that was in love with Miss Loach, sir?”

“Yes.  On account of that old love, Lord Caranby desires to learn who killed her.  And Mr. Mallow also wishes to know, for a private reason.  I expect you will be calling to see Mrs. Pill?”

“When she’s Mrs. Barnes, I think so, sir.  I go to the wedding, and me and Geraldine are going to be bridesmaids.”

“Then if you hear or see anything likely to lead to a revelation of the truth, you will remember.  By the way, you don’t know how Senora Gredos got that photograph?”

“No, sir, I do not.”

“And you think Mrs. Herne is Senora Gredos’ mother?”

“Yes, sir, I do.”

“Thank you, that will do for the present.  Keep your eyes open and your mouth closed, and when you hear of anything likely to interest me, call at the address I gave you.”

“Yes, sir,” said Susan, and took her leave, not without another lingering glance at the door behind which Mallow waited impatiently.

When she was gone, Jennings went into the next room to find Cuthbert smoking.  He jumped up when he saw the detective.  “Well, has that silly girl gone?” he asked angrily.

“Yes, poor soul.  You needn’t get in a wax, Mallow.  The girl can’t help falling in love with you.  Poor people have feelings as well as rich.”

“I know that, but it’s ridiculous:  especially as I never saw the girl before, and then I love only Juliet.”

“You are sure of that?”

“Jennings”

“There—­there, don’t get angry.  We must get to the bottom of this affair which is getting more complicated every day.  Did you give that photograph to Senora Gredos?”

“To Maraquito.  No, I didn’t.  I gave it to Juliet.”

“You are certain?”

“Positive!  I can’t make out how it came into Maraquito’s house.”

Jennings pondered.  “Perhaps Basil may have given it to her.  It is to his interest on behalf of his mother to make trouble between you and Miss Saxon.  Moreover, if it is as I surmise, it shows that Mrs. Octagon intended to stop the marriage, if she could, even before her sister died.”

“Ah!  And it shows that the death of Miss Loach gave her a chance of asserting herself and stopping the marriage.”