"There is something about him that is mysterious," declared the girl. "Very mysterious."
"And what's that?"
"Well, Mr. Durrant was helping me to watch his movements when he suddenly disappeared!"
"Ah! That's interesting. Did Boyne know you were watching?"
"No. He had no suspicion. We watched him go to two houses, one in Pont Street, and the other in Upper Brook Street," Marigold said. "At night he dresses smartly and goes into the West End."
"A good many men do that, miss. By day they earn their money honestly by hard work, and at night fritter it away up West. I don't really see what there is in that. Isn't there anything else you know?"
Marigold hesitated. She feared to tell him of the strange disguise.
"Well, my aunt is Mr. Boyne's housekeeper, and I know that a room at the top of the house is kept locked."
"A good many upstairs rooms are kept locked. There's nothing much in that, I think."
"But I heard noises inside—a human cry!"