"Yes."
Juliet's reply was short and a little cold. She could not understand why the detective should choose this moment to question her on trivial details. It showed, she considered, a lamentable lack of tact, and involuntarily she resented it.
"But surely you told me that every one had left Inverashiel," persisted
Gimblet, unabashed.
He seemed absurdly eager for the information. No doubt, Juliet reflected bitterly, he admired Julia. Most men would.
"Mrs. Clutsam lives in another small house of my father's, near here," she replied stiffly. "She asked Miss Romaninov to stay with her for a few days till she could arrange where to go to. This disaster naturally upset every one's plans."
"She has a beautiful face," said Gimblet. "Who would think—" he murmured, and stopped abruptly.
"Perhaps you would like me to introduce you?"
Juliet spoke with lofty indifference, but the dismay in Gimblet's tone as he answered disarmed her.
"On no account," he cried, "the last thing! Besides, for that matter," he added truthfully, "we have met before."
"Then you will have the pleasure of renewing your acquaintance," Juliet suggested mischievously. Gimblet had shown himself so genuinely aghast that her resentful suspicions had vanished.