"Certainly. He is known as Mr. Sydney H. Corbett." She gave a slight gasp. "Why do you put it in that way? Is not that his right name?" "I have reason to believe it is not." Mrs. Hillmer was so obviously distressed that Bruce inwardly reviled himself for causing her so much unnecessary suffering. In all probability, the source of her emotion had not the remotest bearing upon his quest. Then came the pertinent query, after a glance at his card, which she still held in her hand: "Who are you, Mr.--Mr. Claude Bruce?" "I am a member of the Bar, of the Inner Temple. My chambers are No. 7 Paper Buildings, and my private residence is given there." "And why are you interested in Mr. Sydney Corbett?" "Ah, in that respect I am at this moment unable to enlighten you." "Unable, or unwilling?" He indulged in a quiet piece of fencing: "Really, Mrs. Hillmer," he said, "I am not here as in any sense hostile to you. I merely want some detailed information with regard to this gentleman, information which you may be able to give me. That is all." All this time he knew that the woman was scrutinizing him narrowly--trying to weigh him up as it were, not because she feared him, but rather to discover the true motive of his presence. Personally, he had never faced a more difficult task than this make-believe investigation. He could have laughed at the apparent want of connection between Lady Dyke's ill-fated visit to Raleigh Mansions and this worrying of a beautiful, pleasant-mannered woman, who was surely neither a principal nor an accomplice in a ghastly crime. "Well, I suppose I may consider myself in the hands of counsel. Tell me what it is you want to know!" Mrs. Hillmer pouted, with the air of a child about to undergo a scolding. "Are you acquainted with Mr. Corbett's present address?" he said. "No. I have neither seen him nor heard from him since early in November." "Can you be more precise about the period?" "Yes, perhaps." She arose, took from a drawer in the sideboard a packet of bills--receipted, he observed--searched through them and found the document she sought. "I purchased a few articles about that time," she explained, "and the account for them is dated November 15. I had not seen my--" She blushed, became confused, laughed a little, and went on. "I had not seen Mr. Corbett for at least a week before that date--say November 8th or 9th." Lady Dyke disappeared on the evening of the 6th! Bruce swallowed his astonishment at the odd coincidence of dates, for he said, with an encouraging laugh, "Out with it, Mrs. Hillmer. You were about to describe Mr. Corbett correctly when you recollected yourself." Mrs. Hillmer, still coloring and becoming saucily cheerful, cried, "Why should I trouble myself when you, of course, know all that I can tell you, and probably more? He is my brother, and a pretty tiresome sort of relation, too."