“Did she tell you where she lived when in England?” “They did not stay very much in England, according to her account. When they did they stopped with an uncle--ah--what is the name of the place, where your King has a fine Castle?” “Windsor,” suggested Grewgus. “That is it, Windsor. I did notice one thing about her, that she was very reserved about her own affairs.” “She had every reason to be,” said the detective grimly. “Well, Monsieur Calliard, you have been very obliging. It is now my turn to give you some information. I have every reason to believe that this agreeable-mannered young woman is one of the decoys of a firm of blackmailers; that she gets hold of men with the ultimate object of fleecing them.” The Frenchman looked intensely astonished. “The decoy of a blackmailing gang,” he remarked. “A handsome, brilliant young woman like that! She ought to have made a good marriage. I cannot help feeling for her more pity than disgust. And that respectable-looking old Jewess, the mother. Is she a criminal also?” Grewgus looked at him sharply. “You had no suspicion, then, of this, I take it? Now, Monsieur Calliard, whatever you say to me on this subject will pass out of my mind; I promise you I will not make use of it. Can you assure me that she has not attempted to blackmail you?” It occurred to Grewgus that she had made the attempt, and that her sudden flight was due to the fact that she had been foiled, that the Frenchman had taken a bold attitude and defied her. The next words undeceived him. “Upon my word of honour, Monsieur Grewgus, no.” Grewgus was fairly convinced that the jeweller was speaking the truth, that he was not actuated by a feeling of shame which led him to deny he had been the victim of an artful adventuress. “Upon my word of honour, no,” he repeated emphatically. “The opinion I formed of her was that she was an unconventional girl, leading a roving sort of existence with a careless and not very interesting mother, that she was pleased to come across anybody who would take her about and give her a good time. In spite of her gaiety and enjoyment of life, I judged her to be of a rather cold temperament. She never seemed to crave for admiration, although, like all women, she liked a compliment when you paid it to her.” “But surely you made her handsome presents from time to time,” persisted Grewgus. Monsieur Calliard was a genial old fellow enough, but not likely to attract a handsome young woman by his personal gifts.