The detective was watching her narrowly. She had arisen, her face grown white again with passion, her fingers clinched, a fierce gleam in the dark eyes, which even he, with all his long experience in the art of reading men, could not fathom.
"And so—he loves you!" Edmond Stolliker said, musingly.
"If you would so desecrate the holy name."
"And when Mr. Winthrop was summoned to Mexico this man went with him?"
"Yes."
"Why? Were his mining interests also jeopardized?"
"He had none there."
"Ah! That is a significant fact, certainly. Did Mr. Winthrop write you anything of the condition in which he found his affairs there?"
"His last letter stated that he had not yet discovered why he had been summoned at all, as matters seemed to him in a more prosperous condition than they had ever been."
"Umph! Will you let me see that letter?"