“Yes, Parkyns, many things, and I’ve done a little bit of inquiry myself; but I must say all to no purpose, I’m afraid.”
“I don’t like to give it up, if you think there is anything more to be done. Are you going to give it up, sir? Because if you do, there isn’t much use of our going on.”
“Oh, it isn’t quite fair to me to say that, inspector. I’m only an amateur. My interest in it isn’t professional.”
“What is your interest then, Mr. Tempest?”
The barrister turned and took from its nail above the mantelpiece, in front of which he was standing, a miniature, which he passed to the detective.
“That’s the explanation of my interest, inspector.”
“Where did you get this from, sir? Did Lady Stableford give it to you?”
“No. Who do you think it is?”
“Well, it’s a portrait of Miss Stableford, isn’t it.”
“No, not at all. It’s a portrait of Miss Alvarez. It’s been hanging on that nail for twenty years. It’s the miniature I told you of. Your mistake proves how great the likeness is. Now, do you understand how my curiosity has been provoked?”