"Yes. I saw her once or twice. But I did not like her."
"She is the aunt of the young lady you are engaged to marry?"
Mallow drew himself up stiffly. "As a matter of fact she is," he said with marked coldness. "But I don't see—"
"You will in a minute," said Jennings briskly. "Pardon me, but are you in love with another woman?"
Mallow grew red. "What the devil do you mean by coming here to ask me such a question?" he demanded.
"Gently, Mallow, I am your friend, and you may need one."
"What do you mean. Do you accuse me of—"
"I accuse you of nothing," said Jennings quickly, "but I ask you, why did you give this photograph, with an inscription, to the servant of the murdered woman."
"I recognize my photograph, but the servant—"
"Susan Grant. The picture was found in her possession. She refuses to speak," here the detective spoke lower, "in case you get into trouble with the police."