“Dr. Short told me,” answered Mary.  “I don’t know any details.”

Folliot looked meditatively at her a moment.

“Got something to do with those other matters, you know,” he remarked.  “I say!  What’s Ransford doing about all that?”

“About all what, Mr. Folliot?” asked Mary, at once on her guard.  “I don’t understand you.”

“You know—­all that suspicion—­and so on,” said Folliot.  “Bad position for a professional man, you know—­ought to clear himself.  Anybody been applying for that reward Ransford offered?”

“I don’t know anything about it,” replied Mary.  “Dr. Ransford is very well able to take care of himself, I think.  Has anybody applied for yours?”

Folliot rose from his chair again, as if he had changed his mind about lingering, and shook his head.

“Can’t say what my solicitors may or may not have heard—­or done,” he answered.  “But—­queer business, you know—­and ought to be settled.  Bad for Ransford to have any sort of a cloud over him.  Sorry to see it.”

“Is that why you came forward with a reward?” asked Mary.

But to this direct question Folliot made no answer.  Ile muttered something about the advisability of somebody doing something and went away, to Mary’s relief.  She had no desire to discuss the Paradise mysteries with anybody, especially after Ransford’s assurance of the previous evening.  But in the middle of the afternoon in walked Mrs. Folliot, a rare caller, and before she had been closeted with Mary five minutes brought up the subject again.

“I want to speak to you on a very serious matter, my dear Miss Bewery,” she said.  “You must allow me to speak plainly on account of—­of several things.  My—­my superiority in—­in age, you know, and all that!”

“What’s the matter, Mrs. Folliot?” asked Mary, steeling herself against what she felt sure was coming.  “Is it—­very serious?  And—­pardon me—­is it about what Mr. Folliot mentioned to me this morning?  Because if it is, I’m not going to discuss that with you or with anybody!”

“I had no idea that my husband had been here this morning,” answered Mrs. Folliot in genuine surprise.  “What did he want to talk about?”

“In that case, what do you want to talk about?” asked Mary.  “Though that doesn’t mean that I’m going to talk about it with you.”

Mrs. Folliot made an effort to understand this remark, and after inspecting her hostess critically for a moment, proceeded in her most judicial manner.

“You must see, my dear Miss Bewery, that it is highly necessary that some one should use the utmost persuasion on Dr. Ransford,” she said.  “He is placing all of you—­himself, yourself, your young brother—­in most invidious positions by his silence!  In society such as—­well, such as you get in a cathedral town, you know, no man of reputation can afford to keep silence when his—­his character is affected.”