"Did you ask questions about Lady Rachel's murder?"
"No. You gave me only a hint when you sent me down. I didn't like to venture on ground I wasn't sure of. I'm more cautious than you."
"Well, I'll tell you everything now," said Hurd, and gave a rapid sketch of what he had learned from the newspapers and the Scotland Yard papers relative to the Sandal affair. Aurora nodded.
"But Matilda Junk said nothing of that. She merely stated that Mr. Lemuel Krill had gone to London over twenty years ago, and that his wife knew nothing of him until she saw the hand-bills."
"Hum," said Hurd again, as the train slowed down to the Christchurch station, "it seems all fair and above board. What about Jessop?"
"Knowing so little of the Lady Rachel case, I didn't inquire about him," said Aurora. "I've told you everything."
"Anyone else stopping at the inn?"
"No. And it's not a bad little place after all. The rooms are clean and the food good and the charges low. I'd rather stop at 'The Red Pig,' small as it is, than at the big hotel. The curries—oh, they are delightfully hot!" Miss Qian screwed her small face into a smile of ecstasy. "But, then, a native makes them."
Hurd started. "Curries—a native?"
"Yes—a man called Hokar."