"But why do you suggest gipsies?" Gwen asked Owain, without attending to her hostess.
"Well," he said, with an affected shrug, "that queer dress of the untidy old woman hints at a gipsy. Perhaps it's only a fancy on my part."
"It's a very good fancy," said Mrs. Perage emphatically. "If this tramp is innocent, which he may be for all I know, the gipsies may have something to do with the crime. Why, Gwen, don't you remember how your father turned a whole gang of them off Parley Common a year ago because they were robbing the hen-roosts? And an orange spotted dress is just what a gipsy would wear."
"But you don't think, Mrs. Perage, that this woman murdered my father?"
"My dear, I don't suggest anything because I don't know anything. All I say is, that Mr. Hench's chance shot may have hit the bull's-eye."
Gwen looked down thoughtfully at the carpet. "My father certainly was very much worried after his interview with this woman, and his worry lasted up to the time of his death. Gipsies--if this woman was a gipsy--might have something to do with the matter."
"It's only my idea, of course," said Owain hastily, for he did not wish Madame Alpenny to be run to earth immediately. "Don't let us jump to conclusions. We must think. I shall be here for a few weeks, and during that time, Miss Evans, I am wholly at your disposal."
"You will help me to learn who murdered my father?"
"Yes. I'll do my best to find out," said Hench earnestly.
"Hum!" boomed Mrs. Perage. "Easier said than done. How do you intend to begin?"