“Oh, nothing. But sometimes the best and sweetest women will act against their own good impulses for those they love.” “I cannot pretend to misunderstand you,” said Mr. Porter. “But you are wrong. If the one you have in mind--I will say no name--was in any way guiltily implicated, it was without the knowledge or connivance of Florence Lloyd. But, man, the idea is absurd. The individual in question has a perfect alibi.” “He refuses to give it.” “Refuses the details, perhaps. And he has a right to, since they concern no one but himself. No, my friend, you know the French rule; well, follow that, and search for the lady with the gold-mesh bag.” “The lady without it, at present,” I said, with an apologetic smile for my rather grim jest. “Yes; and that's the difficulty. As she hasn't the bag, we can't discover her. So as a clue it is worthless.” “It seems to be,” I agreed. I thought best not to tell Mr. Porter of the card I had found in the bag, for I hoped soon to hear from headquarters concerning the lady whose name it bore. But I told him about the photograph I had found in Mr. Crawford's desk, and showed it to him. He did not recognize it as being a portrait of any one he had ever seen. Nor did he take it very seriously as a clue. “I'm quite sure,” he said, “that Joseph Crawford has not been interested in any woman since the death of his wife. He has always seemed devoted to her memory, and as one of his nearest friends, I think I would have known if he had formed any other attachment. Of course, in a matter like this, a man may well have a secret from his nearest friends, but I cannot think this mild and gentle-looking lady is at all concerned in the tragedy.” As a matter of fact, I agreed with Mr. Porter, for nothing I had discovered among the late Mr. Crawford's effects led me to think he had any secret romance. After Mr. Porter's departure I studied long over my puzzles, and I came to the conclusion that I could do little more until I should hear from headquarters. XV. THE PHOTOGRAPH EXPLAINED That evening I went to see Philip Crawford. As one of the executors of his late brother's estate, and as probable heir to the same, he was an important personage just now. He seemed glad to see me, and glad to discuss ways and means of running down the assassin. Like Mr. Porter, he attached little importance to the gold bag.