"Not lately, sir," she answered. "Poor lady, she's dead, so I hear."
"Did she often visit your mistress?"
"Yes, sir. The last time she was here was at a dinner party with Mr. and Mrs. Braybourne."
"Oh! Then Mrs. Braybourne is a friend of your mistress, is she? I know her quite well. She lives in Pont Street, eh?"
"Yes, sir; she's a very great friend," was the girl's reply. "So is Mr. Braybourne."
"And who is Mr. Braybourne?"
"Why, Mrs. Braybourne's husband, of course."
As Emery descended the stairs to the street he wondered who could be "Mr. Braybourne"—if Mrs. Braybourne was a widow, as alleged.
At the end of the street he hailed a taxi and returned at once to the head office of the insurance company, where he revealed certain other suspicions which had arisen in his mind after his interview with Mrs. Braybourne.
CHAPTER XXX