"I don't want to be loved in that selfish way. It's just like mother: she wants all one's affection, and nags the whole time, saying it is for my good. I've had quite enough of that in mother, without taking it on in a wife. I want a woman who will cheer me up, and look upon me as something to be looked up to. But I'll punish her," said Jerry wrathfully. "She expects me to run after her. I won't; I'll stay here and talk to you."
"I'm busy," said Beatrice, taking a step or two away. "I have to go to The Camp to see Durban."
"You needn't. He's at Convent Grange looking for you."
"Oh! Then I'll go to him at once."
"Better wait to hear what I have to say," urged Jerry; "it's about the murder of Mr. Alpenny."
Beatrice stopped short, wondering what she was about to hear. "Have you discovered anything?" she asked breathlessly.
"I can't say if what I have discovered is of any use," explained Mr. Snow, "but it might put the police on the track of the assassins."
"What have you found out?"
"Well, I was down Whitechapel the other night," said Jerry, "making an inquiry into some robbery that has taken place. There was a detective with me, and we saw all manner of queer things; also, we heard all manner of queer talk. In one way and another we picked up information about the Black Patch Gang."
"The Black Patch Gang!" echoed Beatrice. "Yes!--yes?"