The girl’s face darkened momentarily as she thought of Jimmy.
“I shall never understand,” she said slowly, “how a man of his gifts allowed himself to become——”
“But,” protested the detective, “he told you he took no part in the decoying of your father.”
The girl turned with open-eyed astonishment.
“Surely you do not expect me to believe his excuses,” she cried.
Angel Esquire looked grave.
“That is just what I should ask you to believe,” he said quietly. “Jimmy makes no excuses, and he would certainly tell no lie in extenuation of his faults.”
“But—but,” said Kathleen, bewildered, “he is a thief by his own showing—a bad man.”
“A thief,” said Angel soberly, “but not a bad man. Jimmy is a puzzle to most people. To me he is perfectly understandable; that is because I have too much of the criminal in my own composition, perhaps.”
“I wish, oh, how I wish I had your faith in him! Then I could absolve him from suspicion of having helped ruin my poor father.”