“Not without your permission,” replied Spargo. “I should not think of publishing anything you may tell me except with your express permission.” She looked at him gloomily, seemed to gather an impression of his good faith, and nodded her head. “In that case,” she said, “what do you want to ask?” “I have lately had reason for making certain enquiries about John Maitland,” answered Spargo. “I suppose you read the newspapers and possibly the _Watchman_, Miss Baylis?” But Miss Baylis shook her head. “I read no newspapers,” she said. “I have no interest in the affairs of the world. I have work which occupies all my time: I give my whole devotion to it.” “Then you have not recently heard of what is known as the Marbury case—a case of a man who was found murdered?” asked Spargo. “I have not,” she answered. “I am not likely to hear such things.” Spargo suddenly realized that the power of the Press is not quite as great nor as far-reaching as very young journalists hold it to be, and that there actually are, even in London, people who can live quite cheerfully without a newspaper. He concealed his astonishment and went on. “Well,” he said, “I believe that the murdered man, known to the police as John Marbury, was, in reality, your brother-in-law, John Maitland. In fact, Miss Baylis, I’m absolutely certain of it!” He made this declaration with some emphasis, and looked at his stern companion to see how she was impressed. But Miss Baylis showed no sign of being impressed. “I can quite believe that, Mr. Spargo,” she said coldly. “It is no surprise to me that John Maitland should come to such an end. He was a thoroughly bad and unprincipled man, who brought the most terrible disgrace on those who were, unfortunately, connected with him. He was likely to die a bad man’s death.” “I may ask you a few questions about him?” suggested Spargo in his most insinuating manner. “You may, so long as you do not drag my name into the papers,” she replied. “But pray, how do you know that I have the sad shame of being John Maitland’s sister-in-law?” “I found that out at Market Milcaster,” said Spargo. “The photographer told me—Cooper.” “Ah!” she exclaimed. “The questions I want to ask are very simple,” said Spargo. “But your answers may materially help me. You remember Maitland going to prison, of course?” Miss Baylis laughed—a laugh of scorn. “Could I ever forget it?” she exclaimed. “Did you ever visit him in prison?” asked Spargo. “Visit him in prison!” she said indignantly. “Visits in prison are to be paid to those who deserve them, who are repentant; not to scoundrels who are hardened in their sin!” “All right. Did you ever see him after he left prison?” “I saw him, for he forced himself upon me—I could not help myself. He was in my presence before I was aware that he had even been released.” “What did he come for?” asked Spargo. “To ask for his son—who had been in my charge,” she replied.