"Do you think a woman cares to accuse the man she loves? Besides, Mrs. Octagon may have forced her to keep silence, so as to make the matter more difficult for you. The only way in which you can clear up matters is to see Miss Saxon and insist on an explanation."
"And if she won't give it?"
"I think she will this time," said Jennings with a grim smile. "By now she must have discovered her loss, and she knows well enough that the knife is in my possession. Already she knows that I threatened to arrest you—"
"But you would never do that."
"I would if it meant the clearing of your character. I tell you, Mallow, you are in danger. There is a conspiracy against you, and the using of your knife to kill that old woman proves it. To prepare the ground for an accusation, someone stole it. You must fight, man, or your enemies may bring about your arrest, in spite of all I can do."
Mallow dropped into his seat, flushed and angry.
"I have no enemies," he muttered, trying to collect his wits.
"Yes, you have, and of the worst kind. Two women are against you."
"Two women? Mrs. Octagon, I know, hates me as Caranby's nephew and because she wants to handle this money. But the other?"
"Maraquito Gredos."