“Sincerely,

“(Mrs.) Emma de Lancey.”

“Do you know anything about it?” I asked casually handing the letter back.

“Only by hearsay.  I understand it is the crookedest gambling joint in the city, at least judging by the stories they tell of the losses there.  And so beastly aristocratic, too.  They tell me young Forbes has lost a small fortune there—­but I don’t know how true it is.  We get hundreds of these daintily perfumed and monogramed little missives in the course of a year.”

“You mean Angus Forbes?” I asked.

“Yes,” replied the managing editor, “the fellow that they say has been trying to capture your friend Miss Winslow.”

I did not reply for the moment.  Forbes, I had already learned, was deeply in debt.  Was it part of his plan to get control of the little fortune of Violet to recoup his losses?

“Do you know Mrs. de Lancey?” pursued the editor.

“No—­not yet,” I answered.  “I was just wondering what sort of person she is.”

“Oh I suppose she’s all right,” he answered, “but they say she’s pretty straight-laced—­that cards and all sorts of dissipation are an obsession with her.”

“Well,” I argued, “there might be worse things than that.”

“That’s right,” he agreed.  “But I don’t believe that such a puritanical atmosphere is—­er—­just the place to bring up a young woman like Violet Winslow.”

I said nothing.  It did not seem to me that Mrs. de Lancey had succeeded in killing the natural human impulses in Violet, though perhaps the girl was not as well versed in some of the ways of the world as others of her set.  Still, I felt that her own natural common sense would protect her, even though she had been kept from a knowledge of much that in others of her set was part of their “education.”

My friend’s telephone had been tinkling constantly during the conversation and I saw that as the time advanced he was getting more and more busy.  I thanked Davenport and excused myself.

At least I had learned something about those who were concerned in the case.  As I rode uptown I could not help thinking of Violet Winslow and her apparently intuitive fear concerning Warrington.  I wondered how much she really knew about Angus Forbes.  Undoubtedly he had not hesitated to express his own feelings toward her.  Had she penetrated beneath the honeyed words he must have spoken to her?  Was it that she feared that all things are fair in war and love and that the favour she must have bestowed on Warrington might have roused the jealousy of some of his rivals for her affections?

I found no answer to my speculations, but a glance at my watch told me that it was nearing the time of my appointment with Guy.

A few minutes later I jumped off the car at Headquarters and met Garrick, waiting for me in the lower hall.  As we ascended the broad staircase to the second floor, where Dillon’s office was, I told him briefly of what I had discovered.