“No,” replied the Crown Prince, “she did not. But I——” he stopped—seemingly at a momentary loss for words.
“Was she there?” asked Anthony, quick to seize the point. The Crown Prince bowed his head in assent. “It would appear then—that, as I foreshadowed—the root of the matter lies at Westhampton? Do you agree?” He eye the Crown Prince with intentness.
“It may—very possibly,” came the answer. “On the other hand it may be merely a coincidence. I visited many more places with the lady than Westhampton—as I stated, I have only been in that particular place once.”
“You may be right, of course,” conceded Anthony. “Where was the photograph taken?”
“At Seabourne—last summer.”
“By——?”
“A gentleman who was staying in the same hotel. With my own camera. He obliged me by taking it. It was a wish of the lady.”
“Can you recollect this gentleman’s name?”
The Crown Prince of Clorania frowned as though he found the questions distasteful and disconcerting. “I think it was a Captain Willoughby. I’m not altogether sure. Naturally I wasn’t taking a prominent part in the social life of the hotel at the time.”
“What was the name of the Hotel?”