"Hale," said Jennings, "I forgot Hale. Does he still retain your business, Miss Saxon?"
"No. I have given over the management of my property to our own lawyer. Mr. Hale was quite willing."
"Does your brother Basil still make a friend of Mr. Hale?"
"I don't know," said Juliet, changing color again. "I do not ask about Basil's doings. I said that before. Hark," she added, anxious to put an end to the conversation, "my mother is coming."
"I should like to see Mrs. Octagon," said Jennings.
"She will be here in a few minutes. I shall tell her," and Juliet, without a look, left the room, evidently glad to get away.
Jennings frowned and took out the knife at which he looked. "She knows a good deal about this affair," he murmured. "Who is she shielding? I suspect her brother. Otherwise she would not have hidden the knife. I wonder to whom it belongs. Here are three notches cut in the handle—there is a stain on the blade—blood, I suppose."
He got no further in his soliloquy, for Mrs. Octagon swept into the room in her most impressive manner. She was calm and cool, and her face wore a smile as she advanced to the detective. "My dear Mr. Jennings," she said, shaking him warmly by the hand, "I am so glad to see you, though I really ought to be angry, seeing you came to my house so often and never told me what you did."
"You mightn't have welcomed me had you known," said he dryly.
"I am above such vulgar prejudices," said Mrs. Octagon, waving her hand airily, "and I am sure your profession is an arduous one. When Juliet told me that you were looking into this tragic death of my poor sister I was delighted. So consoling to have to do with a gentleman in an unpleasant matter like this. Why have you come?"