They intended to keep the identity of the original of the stolen portrait a secret. Yet they were in utter ignorance that it was in my possession.
Why had this Miss O’Hara gone to meet Sybil in Nello’s place? I wondered.
I chatted with them both for a long time, but without being able to discover any additional fact. They were both clever women, and knew how to hold their tongues.
Presently Mrs Parham said suddenly,—
“I’m sure my husband will feel very indebted to you when he knows all the facts. I have not the pleasure of your name.”
“Morton,” I said, “William Morton,” and feeling in my pocket expressed regret that I had forgotten my card-case.
A quarter of an hour later I took my leave and was walking down Sydenham Hill when I suddenly encountered my friend the police inspector of the night of the strange affair at Keymer.
He glanced at me, and our recognition was mutual.
Then when he had greeted me he turned on his heel and walked in my direction. After some conversation regarding the mysterious attempt and its fatal termination, he said in a hard voice,—
“Our people are rather surprised at your attitude, you know.”