Now this was the sort of situation to amuse and stimulate, rather than alarm, Katty, the more so that the stranger, who was now close to her, was looking at her pleasantly rather than otherwise.
She took a step towards him.
"Mr. Howard?" she exclaimed, in her full, agreeable voice. "I wonder if you would be so kind as to grant me a short interview? I want to see you about the late Mr. Godfrey Pavely. He was a great friend of mine."
As she uttered the dead banker's name, Greville Howard's face stiffened into sudden watchfulness. But he said slowly: "May I enquire your name, madam?"
"Oh yes," she said eagerly. "My name is Winslow—I am Mrs. Winslow. I was Godfrey Pavely's oldest friend—we were children together."
"Ah!" he exclaimed. "Your name comes back to me. I think you were mentioned at the inquest, Mrs. Winslow? But you did not give any evidence, if I remember rightly."
"No, I was not asked to give evidence," she answered. "And you yourself, Mr. Howard, were too ill to come and say what you knew about—about——"
"About Mr. Pavely's murderer," he said smoothly.
They were now walking side by side slowly away from the gate, down a broad, well-kept carriage road, the lodge-keeper staring after them.
"Do you know Sir Angus Kinross?" asked Katty's companion suddenly.