"Because I have seen the photograph."
"That is impossible," she answered coldly; "unless you were in this house before the death of my aunt."
"Ah! then it was to Miss Loach you gave it," said Jennings, wondering how Maraquito had become possessed of it.
"It was; though I do not recognize your right to ask such a question, Mr. Jennings. My late aunt was very devoted to Mr. Mallow and anxious that our marriage should take place. He gave me the photograph—"
"With an inscription," put in the detective.
"Certainly," she rejoined, flushing, "with an inscription intended for me alone. I was unwilling to part with the photograph, but my aunt begged so eagerly for it that I could not refuse it."
"How did she see it in the first instance?"
"I brought it to show her after Mr. Mallow gave it to me. May I ask where you saw it?"
Jennings looked at her with marked significance. "I saw it in the house of a woman called Maraquito."
"And how did it get there?"