Mask moved a few papers hither and thither, but did not look straight at his visitor. "It's a mystery," he said. "I know not what to say. But I am perfectly sure of one thing," he added with emphasis, "that your father never shot Strode----"
"I said so. The bullet that went through the heart did not fit the barrel of my revolver."
"You misunderstand me. I don't even believe that your father fired the shot which ripped the flesh of the arm. Why, Strode was his best friend and he was devoted to him."
"My father to Strode, or Strode to my father?"
"Both ways you can take it. Why, it was Strode brought about the marriage between your parents."
"My mother told me how the marriage came about," said Allen quickly, "but I understood that my father acted from a chivalrous motive."
Mask's lip curled. "I fear not," he said, "there were circumstances connected with your mother----"
Allen shifted himself uneasily and grew red. "I know--I know," he said sharply, "my mother told me about the necklace. Surely you did not believe her guilty, Mr. Mask?"
"No," said the lawyer emphatically, "I certainly did not. I can't say who stole the necklace, but it was lost and the thief has never been found. As to the marriage"--he waved his hand--"Strode brought it about--at least he told me so. How he managed I can't say, unless it was that he used his influence over your father."
"My mother believes----"