"No, I asked him if he did, but he declared that he was too much taken up with managing his horse, which was rather unruly, to cast a look to right or left. He drove to his destination, then returned home by going up the Avenue."
"Can he describe the pair?"
"H'm!" said Torry dubiously, "not very clearly. The woman was tall, fair-haired, dressed in black and veiled. I know all that, as I have seen her dead body and dress. The man was not so tall as the woman, with a black beard, and wore a soft hat and a long overcoat almost to his heels. He was slender and silent, leaving the woman to give the directions and pay the fare."
"Were they agitated?"
"The man seemed more agitated than the woman."
"Perhaps he killed Mr. Grent."
"Perhaps he did; we have no evidence to shew who struck the blow. But who is Mr. Grent?"
"The dead man. He is, or rather was, Mr. Jesse Grent, the banker."
"Oh!" said Torry, rubbing his plump hands with much satisfaction "you have found out that much. This case is becoming important, for Mr. Jesse Grent is well known, I can tell you. He is very rich, very philanthropic, and two years ago stood for Parliament in the Conservative interest. Now I wonder what took so respectable a man into so disreputable a neighbourhood. In disguise, too. H'm it looks queer. Mr. Grent is not so good as I thought him."
"You may as well speak in the past, Torry; the man is dead."