"Well, that's a point," said Hurd, making a note. "What did she say about the photograph?"
"Oh, that it was one of Mr. Hay who was Miss Krill's young man, and that they had been engaged for two years—"
"Matilda seems to be a chatterbox."
"She is. I got a lot out of her."
"Then there can be nothing to conceal on the part of Mrs. Krill?"
"Well," said Aurora, throwing the empty sweetmeat bag out of the window and brushing her lap, "so far as I can discover, Mrs. Krill is a perfectly respectable person, and has lived for thirty years as the landlady of 'The Red Pig.' Matilda acknowledged that her mistress had inherited the money of Lemuel Krill, and Matilda knows all about the murder."
"Matilda is wrong," said the detective, dryly; "Miss Krill gets the money."
Aurora smiled. "From what I heard, Miss Krill has to do what her mother tells her. She's nobody and her mother is all the world. Matilda confessed that her mistress had behaved very well to her. When the money came, she gave up 'The Red Pig' to Matilda Junk, who is now the landlady."
"With a proviso she should hold her tongue."
"No. Mrs. Krill, so far as I can learn, has nothing to conceal. Even if it becomes known in London that she was the landlady of a small pub, I don't think it will matter."