"'Look in the papers to-night,' eh?" said Matherfield. "Um—um! And then, I suppose, he went?"
"He went without another word then," assented Rhona. "Mitchell escorted him out and saw him off. Major Penteney looked at me when he'd gone. 'There, Miss Featherstone,' he said, 'you've seen one of the biggest scoundrels in London—or in Europe. Let's hope you'll never see him again, that that's the end of him here. I think he's had his lesson!' I made no answer, but I was jolly glad to see Baseverie's car scooting away down the drive!"
Matherfield picked up the tankard of ale at his side and took a hearty pull at its contents. He set the tankard down again with an emphatic bang.
"I know what this job is!" he exclaimed triumphantly. "Blackmail!"
"Just so!" agreed Hetherwick. "I've been thinking that for the last ten minutes. Baseverie has been endeavouring to blackmail Lady Riversreade. But that's not our affair, you know. What we're after is the solving of the mystery surrounding Hannaford's death. And—does this look likely to fit in anywhere?"
"I should say it decidedly does look likely!" answered Matherfield. "In my opinion it's all of a piece; at least, it's a piece out of a piece, one of many pieces, like a puzzle. The thing is to put these pieces together. And there are two things we can try to do at once. First, find out more about this man Baseverie; the other, get hold of more information about the lady in St. Mary's Mansions."
"What about approaching Lady Riversreade for information—or Major Penteney?" suggested Hetherwick.
"Yes—why don't you?" said Rhona, almost eagerly. "Do! I'm a bit tired of being there as Miss Featherstone. I want to tell Lady Riversreade the truth, and all the whys and wherefores of it."
But Matherfield shook his head. The time for that was not yet, he declared; let them wait awhile. And after more conversation he and Hetherwick returned to London.