When Zirknitz sauntered out of the room, Mrs. Moxton looked after him with a singular expression. "What do you think of him?" she asked.
"He is clever. It is a great pity he does not put his talents to better use."
"Oh," Mrs. Moxton shrugged her shoulders, "I don't ask you about his character. I know about that well enough. But do you think he is speaking the truth?"
"Yes. He has no reason to tell a lie. I daresay he did see Busham."
"And do you think Mr. Busham is guilty?"
"I can't say. We have not sufficient evidence to go upon."
Mrs. Moxton turned the conversation abruptly. "Did you read the will?"
"Yes. I see that all the money is left to you. I will give you back the document to-morrow. What time do you wish me to call?"
"About eleven o'clock. I have written to Mr. Busham making an appointment for mid-day. I am glad you are coming with me," said the widow, sighing; "it will be a difficult interview."
"That remains to be seen. At any rate, we are not so defenceless as we were before. If Busham accuses you--although I don't see on what grounds he can do so--we can denounce him on the evidence of Zirknitz."