"Indeed I do," he said, quietly. "Believe me, Ailsa, any little scraps of fact or gossip that you can give me I shall be grateful for. You may be sure no harm will be done, and it may possibly lead to some quicker discovery."
It was then to Miss Wynne's advantage, he reflected, to have Lady Margaret out of her path, if only for the time being. With Miss Cheyne out of the reckoning as well there would be an added danger, but it would be turned to an advantage if Sir Edgar were accused of the murder, and Miss Jennifer alone could save him—— His thoughts trailed away as this suddenly awakened thought took hold of him. Supposing Sir Edgar were accused of the murder as he had imagined, and it was in Miss Wynne's hands to tighten the noose about his neck, or shake it off altogether? He wondered idly if her woman's heart would act disinterestedly in such an event and wondering, quite suddenly he knew. It would be as Sir Edgar's wife that Jennifer Wynne would free him—not otherwise.
He turned to Ailsa again.
"Shall we meet Dr. Wynne as well?" he asked quickly.
"Oh, no, he died more than a year ago; that is why Master Bobby is able to waste his time and money I expect."
"Hmn—yes, explains Dr. Verrall, too: his presence in the village, I mean," he added, not wishing to voice his suspicions as yet.
"Yes," said Ailsa, "and as he is desperately in love with her, it is to be hoped that she will not succeed in her endeavours to become the future Lady Brenton. Certainly if gifts could win her, Dr. Verrall would succeed, he has simply loaded her with presents. They are unique ones, too: mostly strange things from temples——"
She broke off suddenly as Cleek's lips pursed themselves into a low whistle of surprise.
"What is the matter, dear?"
"Nothing. Do you happen to know from where Dr. Verrall came to this place?"