"What am I to think then?" demanded the detective.
"What you like."
"That you love this Susan Grant?"
"I tell you I never set eyes on her," said Cuthbert violently.
"Then how does she come into possession of your portrait?" asked the other. Then seeing that Mallow refused to speak, he laid a persuasive hand on his shoulder. "You must speak out," he said quickly, "you have told me so much you must tell me all. Matters can't stand as they are. No," here Jennings looked straight into Mallow's eyes, "you did not give that portrait to Susan Grant."
"I never said so."
"Don't be an ass, Mallow. You say you don't know the girl, therefore you can hardly have given her the photograph. Now the inscription shows that it was given to a woman you are in love with. You told me when you introduced me to Miss Saxon that she was the only woman you ever loved. Therefore you gave this portrait with its tender inscription to her."
"I—I can't say."
"You mean you won't trust me," said Jennings.
Cuthbert rose quickly and flung off his friend's arm. "I wish to Heaven I had never opened my mouth to you," he said.