"Good morning, Miss Kitwater," I said. "This is an unexpected visit. Won't you sit down?"
When she had done so I resumed my seat at the table.
"Mr. Fairfax," she began, "you are the great detective, I believe?"
I admitted the soft impeachment with as much modesty as I could assume at so short a notice. She certainly was a very pretty girl.
"I have come to talk to you about my uncle."
She stopped as if she did not quite know how to proceed.
"Then the gentleman who called upon me yesterday, and who has the misfortune to be blind, is your uncle?" I said.
"Yes! He was my father's younger and only brother," she answered. "I have often heard my father speak of him, but I had never seen him myself until he arrived in England, a month ago with his companion, Mr. Codd. Mr. Fairfax, they have suffered terribly. I have never heard anything so awful as their experiences."
"I can quite believe that," I answered. "Your uncle told me something of their great trouble yesterday. It seems wonderful to me that they should have survived to tell the tale."
"Then he must have told you of Hayle, their supposed friend" (she spoke with superb scorn), "the man who betrayed them and robbed them of what was given them?"