"May I ask what your name is?" Audrey inquired of the detective as soon as Aguilar had shut the door. "Hurley," replied the detective. "I thought it might be," said Audrey, sitting down, but not offering seats. "Well, Mr. Hurley, after all your running after Miss Susan Foley, don't you think it's rather unfair to say horrid things about a respectable man like Aguilar? You were funny about that stout wife of yours last time I saw you, but you must remember that Aguilar can't be funny about his wife, because he hasn't got one." "I really don't know what you're driving at, miss," said Mr. Hurley simply. "Well, what were you driving at when you followed me all the way to London the other day?" "Madam," said Mr. Hurley, "I didn't follow you to London. I only happened to arrive at Charing Cross about twenty seconds after you, that was all. As a matter of fact, nearly half of the way you were following me." "Well, I hope you were satisfied." "I only want to know one thing," the detective retorted. "Am I speaking to Mrs. Olivia Moncreiff?" Audrey hesitated, glancing at Madame Piriac, who, in company with the vast Inspector Keeble, was carefully inspecting the floor. She invoked wisdom and sagacity from heaven, and came to a decision. "Not that I know of," she answered. "Then, if you please, who are you?" "What!" exclaimed Audrey. "You're in the village of Moze itself and you ask who I am. Everybody knows me. My name is Audrey Moze, of Flank Hall, Moze, Essex. Any child in Moze Street will tell you that. Inspector Keeble knows as well as anybody." Madame Piriac proceeded steadily with the inquiry into the carpet. Audrey felt her heart beating. "Unmarried?" pursued the detective. "Most decidedly," said Audrey with conviction. "Then what's the meaning of that ring on your finger, if you don't mind my asking?" the detective continued. Certainly Audrey was flustered, but only for a moment. "Mr. Hurley," said she; "I wear it as a protection from men of all ages who are too enterprising." She spoke archly, with humour; but now there was no answering humour in the features of Mr. Hurley, who seemed to be a changed man, to be indeed no longer even an Irishman. And Audrey grew afraid. Did he, after all, know of her share in the Blue City enterprise? She had long since persuaded herself that the police had absolutely failed to connect her with that affair, but now uncertainty was born in her mind. "I must search the house," said the detective. "What for?" "I have to arrest a woman named Jane Foley," answered Mr. Hurley, adding somewhat grimly: "The name will be known to ye, I'm thinking.... And I have reason to believe that she is now concealed on these premises."