The Countess smiled. She had risen prepared to take her departure. If she had any knowledge of faces she had made a good impression.
"It seems hardly credible," she said. "I mean the story of the Corner House as told by Dr. Bruce. That Spanish woman, for instance."
Prout shook his head in a non-committal fashion. He had heard some amazing statements made by suspects in his time, statements so wild that they carried guilt on the face of them. And yet he had personally proved many of these statements to be true. The Countess smiled as she turned to the door.
"I am not very easily impressed," she said, "and as to that Spanish woman--eh, Dr. Bruce must have been taking lessons from Mr. Lawrence."
"The woman did exist all the same," Prout said innocently. "In fact, I don't mind admitting that I've got a portrait----"
He paused and looked down. The smile faded from Leona's face.
"Who told you that it was a portrait of--I mean where did you----"
"René Lalage. As you are interested, and as you came here to assist me, madame, I don't mind going so far as to show you the picture. It came from a weekly paper----"
"I know--I mean, what do I mean?" the Countess said hoarsely. "Really I don't know why I should be so interested."
Prout took a sheet of paper from his desk and held it up. It was a portrait of a fair Spanish gipsy. The letterpress and border had been cut away.