"How did you guess where to find me?" he asked.
"I didn't guess," Isa Benstein said, quietly. "I never guess anything. You were near the Coroner's court this morning, because I saw you. You did not deem it prudent to appear, so you had a friend who gave you the news en passant. After that you would deem it prudent to go away for a little while beyond the range of the police. But unfortunately as usual you have no money."
"Correct and logical in every detail," Lopez cried. "What a couple we should have made."
"You indeed! The brilliant wife and the equally brilliant husband who would have gambled everything away as soon as it was made. Strange, too, a man so clever could be such a fool. So here you are stranded in London without a feather to fly with."
"Correct again. Unless you are going to help me."
"Why should I help you? You are friendless as well as penniless. There is only one man in London who would be glad for his own sake to supply you with funds, and that is Sir Clement Frobisher. But you dare not go near him or write to him or have any communication with him for fear of the police."
"Once more absolutely correct, Isa. Truly a wonderful woman. If you fail me——"
"We shall come to that presently. What do you know of that Streatham business?"
"Very little indeed. If you want me to swear on my oath that I had nothing to do with the crime I am prepared to do so."
"But you know perfectly well who the man is. He was lying dead on the floor of the conservatory at Streatham, at the very time when you stole the Crimson Moth placed there by Mr. Denvers."