"Well? Is it the girl?"
"I cannot tell." He turned and faced her squarely. "The scar I spoke of is on the young lady's left cheek, which as you see, does not show in this photograph. I only succeeded in obtaining a casual glimpse of her, and although there is a general resemblance, the scar changes the whole expression, and I cannot be certain until I have had an opportunity to observe her more closely."
The old lady seated herself heavily in the nearest chair and the lines seemed suddenly to deepen in her face.
"You're not sure?" She clenched her hands upon the chair arms until the knuckles showed white beneath the soft lace frills which fell from her sleeves. "But there is a resemblance, you say. It must be the girl I am searching for! Go to her at once, Mr. Ross. I cannot endure the strain of waiting longer!"
"One must have patience, Madame Dumois, in a case of this sort. If the young woman knows of your search, and is hiding from you; if she has committed a wrong and fears retribution——"
"That is beside the point!" She glared at him. "Never mind what I want of the girl, Mr. Ross. That is not your province. Only produce her for me and I will be responsible for the consequences."
Madame Dumois set her jaws with a snap, although her breath came quickly and her old eyes flashed.
The detective rose.
"I will see the subject I have in mind at the earliest possible opportunity, and if my suspicions are verified, I will bring her to you."