The little woman paused almost imperceptibly and cast a swift look at the young man and the girl by his side before replying. Then she accepted the well-meant offer in her usual unemotional way. “I shall be glad of your assistance, Mr. Fuller,” she said, producing a printed card from a bead bag which dangled from her lean wrist; “this is my address in Bloomsbury. I keep a boarding-house.” “So Mr. Latimer told me. You stated as much at the inquest. Tell me,” he asked, putting the card into his vest pocket, “have you any clue to———” “I have no clue you would call reasonable, Mr. Fuller!” “That hints some ground on your part for——” “Never mind what it hints,” interrupted Miss Grison sharply. “If you call on me in London, and I feel that I can trust you, then I may speak out.” “Anyone could trust Alan,” said Marie indignantly. The visitor gave a thin-lipped smile. “You are quite right to defend him, my dear, and your defence is natural enough since Selina Millington told me that Mr. Fuller admires you. But he’s a man and all men are bad——” “Except Alan, who is engaged to be married to me.” “All men are bad,” repeated Miss Grison stolidly. “I only knew one good man, and he was my brother Baldwin. “H’m!” murmured Alan, remembering what Sorley had said on the previous day. If Miss Grison heard the ejaculation, and understood its purport, she gave no sign of such knowledge. “What does your Uncle Randolph say to your being engaged to Mr. Fuller?” she asked turning to Marie abruptly. “He says nothing, because he knows nothing.” “Then don’t let him know. He will ruin your happiness in life if he can, as he ruined mine. A hard, cruel man is your Uncle Randolph, my dear.” Marie stared at this wholesale condemnation. “Do you know him well?” “Do I know him well?” Miss Grison gave a hard laugh, and her eyes glittered viciously. “Yes, I may say that I know him very well.” Alan, looking closely at her, wondered if the enemy of her brother to whom she had referred so positively was Mr. Sorley, and thought that it was extremely likely from the vicious emphasis with which she spoke. But Miss Grison, giving him no time to make any comment on her last speech, continued as though she had not stopped to draw breath. “I know the house very well also,” she said calmly, “and I have been walking all over it, while waiting to see Mr. Sorley.” “Walking all over it,” repeated Marie rather indignantly. “A stranger?” “I am not a stranger either to Mr. Sorley or to The Monastery,” replied the small woman with great coolness. “When my brother was his secretary here, years ago, I used to spend days wandering about the rooms and corridors. I know every nook and corner of it, my dear, and could tell you of many a secret hiding-place and hidden passage which were used in ancient times. Your mother made a friend of me in those days, and we used to explore the house together before you were born.”