"It presupposes that Ashton let somebody into the secret," replied Mr. Pawle, "and it makes one suspect that the person to whom he did reveal it had such personal interest in suppressing it that he went to the length of murdering Ashton before Ashton could tell it to any one else. How does that strike you, Viner?"
"It's this—and not the diamond!" declared Viner doggedly. "I've a sort of absolute intuition that I'm right."
"I think so too," assented the old lawyer, dryly. "The fifty-thousand-pound diamond is a side-mine. Very well, now we know a lot, you and I. And, we're going to solve matters. And we're not going to say a word to this young lady, at present—that's settled. But I want to ask her some questions—come along."
He led the way across the hall to the dining-room where a reminder of Ashton's death met his and Viner's view as soon as they had crossed the threshold. The funeral was to take place next day, and Mrs. Killenhall and Miss Wickham were contemplating a massive wreath of flowers which had evidently just arrived from the florist's and been deposited on the centre-table.
"All we can do for him, you know!" murmured Mrs. Killenhall, with a glance at the two men. "He—he had so few friends here, poor man!"
"That remark, ma'am," observed Mr. Pawle, "is apropos of a subject that I want to ask Miss Wickham two or three questions about. Friends, now? Miss Wickham, you always understood that Mr. Ashton and your father were very close friends, I believe?"
"I always understood so—yes, Mr. Pawle," replied Miss Wickham.
"Did he ever tell you much about your father?"
"No, very little indeed. He never told me more than that they knew each other very well, in Australia, that my father died out there, comparatively young, and that he left me in his, Mr. Ashton's care."
"Did he ever tell you whether your father left you any money?" demanded the old lawyer.