"Because next time he invites you, go."
"You warned me against him."
"And I warn you again," said the detective, dryly. "Don't ask me to explain, for I can't. But you go to see Hay when he invites you, and make yourself agreeable, especially to Mrs. Krill."
"Am I likely to meet her?" asked Paul, with repugnance.
"Yes, I fancy so. After all, you are engaged to the daughter of the dead man, and Mrs. Krill—I don't count Maud, who is a tool—is a deucedly clever woman. She will keep her eye on you and Miss Norman."
"Why? She has the money and need take no further notice."
Hurd closed one eye in a suggestive manner. "Mrs. Krill may not be so sure of the money, even though possession is nine points of the law. You remember that scrap of paper found by the maid?"
"In which Norman warned Sylvia against allowing his real name to become known? Yes."
"Well, the letter wasn't finished. The old man was interrupted, I suppose. But in the few lines of writing Norman says," here Hurd took a scrap of paper—a copy—out of his book and read, "'If the name of Krill gets into the papers there will be great trouble. Keep it from the public, I can tell you where to find the reasons for this as I have written'—and then," said Hurd, refolding the paper, "the writing ends. But you can see that Aaron Norman wrote out an account of his reasons, which could not be pleasant for Mrs. Krill to hear."
"I still don't understand," said Paul, hopelessly puzzled.