“Yes, instantly. I should take it to be an excellent likeness.”
“It is,” she replied; “and that is something of an achievement in a self-portrait in the round.”
“Then he modelled it himself?”
“Yes, with the aid of one or two photographs and a couple of mirrors. I helped him by taking the dimensions with callipers and drawing out a scale. Then he made a wax cast and a fireproof mould, and we cast it together in type-metal, as we had no means of melting bronze. Poor Daddy! How proud he was when we broke away the mould and found the casting quite perfect!”
She sighed as she gazed fondly on the beloved features, and her eyes filled. Then, after a brief silence, she turned to me and asked:
“Did Inspector Follett call on you? He said he was going to.”
“Yes, he called yesterday to show me the things that he had found in the pond. Of course, they were not mine, and he seemed to have no doubt—and I think he is right—that they belonged to the—to the⸺”
“Murderer,” said Miss Boler.
“Yes. He seemed to think that they might furnish some kind of clue, but I am afraid he had nothing very clear in his mind. I suppose that coin suggested nothing to you?”
Miss D’Arblay shook her head. “Nothing,” she replied. “As it is an ancient coin, the man may be a collector or a dealer⸺”