Lo-Keong laughed quietly, "Hwei is a true devotée of the god Kwang-ho."
"I don't understand about that god," said Olivia.
"I have come to explain," said the Chinaman, "it is a great pity I did not come before. You would then have had no trouble about this," and he took up the famous fan which Olivia had tossed on the sofa.
"Oh," the young couple looked at one another, and if they did not say "oh," the expression of "oh"--an amazed "oh" was on their faces.
Lo-Keong seemed to have his eyes everywhere, and took up the fan as if it was the most natural thing it should be lying there. "You understand," he went on in his calm well-bred voice. "I have seen Hwei and he told me everything."
"About the murder?"
"About the murder, Mrs. Ainsleigh, and about the hunt for the assassin; also about your husband's visit to London, and full details concerning the folly of Tung-yu--my enemy's servant, who related how the picture on this," he laid a long yellow finger on the fan, "could be brought to light," his eyes wandered to the fragment of the joss stick within the fender. "I observe that you have been clever enough to see the picture."
"Yes," said Rupert, quite amazed at this penetration, "but how do you know that?"
"Very easily. Hwei told me that he came to the cloisters one night to see that all was well----"
"He knew of the hiding place then?" asked Olivia, eagerly.