Her fingers had strayed over one of the blossoms, and he noticed that while they talked she was convulsively crushing it into pulp. "Were these detectives from Liverpool," she asked, "able to keep any watch upon Doctor Gant and Mr. Jocelyn Thew after--Chester?" "To some extent. There is no doubt that Jocelyn Thew spent the first night in Liverpool. After that he travelled to London and took up his residence at the Savoy. Here Doctor Gant, who had travelled up from Chester, called upon him, late in the afternoon of the day of his arrival. They spent some time together, and subsequently the doctor took a room at the Regent Palace Hotel. The two men dined together at the Savoy grill, and took a box at the Alhambra music-hall, where they spent the evening. They appear to have returned to Jocelyn Thew's rooms, had a whisky and soda each and separated. There is no record of their having spoken to any other person or visited any other place." "And their rooms have been searched?" "By the most skilled men we have." She pulled another of the roses to pieces. "So it comes to this," she said. "All these documents, of whose existence both you and the American police knew, have been brought from America to England, and even now you cannot locate them." "At present we cannot," he confessed drily, "but I am not prepared to admit for a single moment that they are ever likely to reach their destination." "Jocelyn Thew is very clever," she reminded him calmly. "I am tired of being told so," he replied, with a touch of irritation in his tone. She smiled. "You probably need your luncheon! If you care to come downstairs with me," she invited, "we can finish our conversation." "I shall be only too pleased." Katharine Beverley's table was in a quiet corner, and she sat with her back to the window, but even under such circumstances the change in her during the last few days was noticeable. There was a frightened light in her eyes, her cheeks were entirely colourless, her hands seemed almost transparent. Such a change in so short a time seemed almost incredible. Crawshay found himself unable to ignore it. "I am very sorry to see you looking so unwell," he observed sympathetically. "I am afraid the shock of your voyage across the Atlantic has been too much for you." "I am terribly disturbed," she confessed. "I am disappointed, too, in Mr. Jocelyn Thew. One hates to be made use of so flagrantly." "You really knew nothing, then, until those things were discovered in your stateroom?" "That question," she replied, "I am not going to answer." "But the main part of the plot?" he persisted, "the bandages?" "Doctor Gant never allowed me to touch them. That is what I found so inexplicable,--what first set me wondering."