“Frankly, Mr. Bathurst, I can’t! But Mr. Stewart, if his son will pardon my outspokenness at such a time as this, was a man of quick impulses. He was very impetuous and utterly impatient—caught by this whim and influenced by that wave of feeling—therefore not exactly a man that you could call a model of consistency. Not that I have any reason or desire to find fault with him as an employer. He was always just and always generous—I cannot complain of his treatment of me.” He looked up and caught Inspector Goodall’s eye and he was quick enough to sense its disapproval. For Goodall’s brain was considering several elements of doubt. “Why,” said the Inspector to himself, “why does this young man talk like this when Miss Marjorie Lennox accuses him of harboring revengeful feelings against the man of whom he speaks?” He decided that the solution to this little problem might possibly be more speedily forthcoming if he showed a little craft. So he affected an air of ingenuousness. “The sentiments do you credit,” he declared. “It’s the fashion of the world nowadays to run down your employers as much as you can. Well, Mr. Bathurst, what about this screen of yours? I’m afraid there’s nobody here that can help you with those details you asked for. You’ll have to remain content with the description in the catalogue—‘an antique metal-work screen.’ I expect the only person that could have supplied more information was Mr. Stewart himself.” “That’s not quite true!” A musical voice from the doorway tinkled across to the group of men. They all turned instantaneously as Marjorie Lennox picked her dainty way towards them. “No! That’s not true,” she reaffirmed. “Because I can! Charles—introduce me to these gentlemen.” She spoke imperiously. Peter Daventry realized when he bowed to this charming interruption that life had discovered for him an additional interest. He murmured a few words to a magical smile and thanked God for another blessing. Anthony expressed his intense satisfaction that Miss Lennox was able to help them so materially, in which statement he was gallantly seconded by Detective-Inspector Goodall, whose thoughts at the same time reverted to Sergeant Clegg and a lady’s handkerchief! “I overheard what was being said,” exclaimed Miss Lennox demurely, “and I realized at once that I could help you. The night before he died, poor Uncle Laurence brought me in here specially to look at that screen. He was very excited about it and he explained to me that Lord Clavering’s death and the sale of his property had given him the chance to get the two screens that had belonged to Mary, Queen of Scots, before the débacle at Carbery Hill and her subsequent imprisonment. We looked at it together—I can describe it very fully.” “Just what I want, Miss Lennox,” exclaimed Anthony. “As fully as you can, please—you will help me a lot.”