But Theodore Carden appeared quite unmoved, nay more, quite unconcerned, by his father's question.
"Yes," he said, "I did tell you so. I suppose I knew the old fellow by sight, but I certainly was never introduced to him. Are there any new developments?"
He turned to Major Lane with a certain curiosity, and then quite composedly handed him the cup of tea he held in his right hand.
"Well, yes," answered the other coldly, "there are several new developments. We arrested Mrs. Jarvice this morning."
"That seems rather a strong step to have taken, unless new evidence has turned up since Saturday," said Theodore thoughtfully.
"Such new evidence has come to hand since Saturday," observed Major Lane drily.
There was a pause, and again Thomas Carden addressed his son with that strange touch of solemnity, and again Major Lane, with an inward wincing, stared fixedly at the young man now standing on the hearth-rug, a stalwart, debonair figure, between himself and his old friend.
"Can you assure me—can you assure us both—that you never met Mrs. Jarvice?"
Carden looked down at his father with a puzzled expression.
"Of course I can't assure you of anything of the kind," he said, still speaking quite placidly. "I may have met her somewhere or other, but I can't remember having done so; and I think I should have remembered it, both because the name is an uncommon one, and because"—he turned to Major Lane—"isn't she said to be an extraordinarily pretty woman?"