“Well then,” she drew a deep breath, “although I loved Baldwin and although he was clever and amiable, he had a weak character. He learned to smoke opium and he took more drink than was good for him. In a moment of madness, and because Mr. Sorley paid him so badly, he forged his employer’s name to a small check for five pounds. Mr. Sorley found this out and threatened to prosecute him, especially as Baldwin—I don’t deny it—made himself objectionable to Mrs. Inderwick. However, Mr. Sorley did not prosecute——”
“Why not? He doesn’t seem to me to be a merciful man.”
“He’s a cruel, hard beast,” said Miss Grison fiercely, “and you heard my opinion of him at Belstone. It was no fault of his that Baldwin was not put in jail. I managed to stop that.”
“In what way?”
“I sha’n’t tell you; there is no need to tell you, Mr. Fuller. It is enough for you to know that I had the power to stop the prosecution and did so. I had just started this boarding-house, and I brought Baldwin here. But what with his drink and his smoking opium, he behaved so badly that, dearly as I loved him, I had to find another home for him, or be ruined. I got him a home with a doctor, who looked after him, but Baldwin ran away and went to Rotherhithe, for there he was near the opium dens. I begged and implored him to lead a better life. He always promised, and he always failed to keep his promise. All I could do was to allow him so much a week, which I did, as I stated in my evidence at the inquest. He lived a degraded life at Mother Slaig’s house, which is down a slum, and there he met with his death at the hands of——” She stopped short.
“At the hands of the man whom you suspect,” finished Alan bluntly.
“I never said it was a man,” retorted Miss Grison abruptly.
“It couldn’t possibly be a woman.”
“I never said that either.”
“Then what do you say?”