“Or find out who was that unknown woman in black,” I added.
“If we could discover her we might obtain the key to the situation,” he responded.
“I have been invited by her ladyship to visit them in Wiltshire,” I said suddenly, as I lit a cigarette, “and I have accepted. Have I done right, do you think?”
“You would have done far better to stay here in London,” grunted the old man. “If we mean to get at the bottom of this mystery we must work together.”
“How?”
“In this affair, my dear Colkirk,” he exclaimed, with a sudden burst of confidence, “there is much more than of what we are aware. There is some motive in getting rid of Miss Wynd secretly and surely. I feel certain that she knows who her mysterious visitor was, but dare not tell us.”
“I am going down to Atworth,” I said. “Perhaps I shall discover something.”
“Perhaps?” he sniffed dubiously. “But, depend upon it, the key to this problem lies in London. You haven’t yet told me who this Miss Wynd is.”
“A lady who, her father being dead, went to live with Sir Henry Pierrepoint-Lane and his wife.”
“Ach! then she has no home? I thought not.”