“Nothing will need straightening out after I tell her that you are going to marry Little Ann Hutchinson,” said Joan, with a half-smile. “And that you were engaged to her before you saw me.”
“Well, that does sort of finish things up, doesn't it?” said T. Tembarom.
He looked at her so speculatively for a moment after this that she wondered whether he had something more to say. He had.
“There's something I want to ask you,” he ventured.
“Ask anything.”
“Do you know any one—just any one—who has a photo—just any old photo—of Jem Temple Barholm?”
She was rather puzzled.
“Yes. I know a woman who has worn one for nearly eight years. Do you want to see it?”
“I'd give a good deal to,” was his answer.
She took a flat locket from her dress and handed it to him.