"But Madame Coralie is so old," said Badoura, with a flush, which made her look very pretty. "She won't live for ever, and then--" "Then you hope to marry Eddy Vail. My dear girl, I wouldn't count too much on that if I were you. Mr. Vail will do what suits him best." "I shall make him marry me," said Badoura, fiercely. "Can you?" asked Perry Toat, sceptically. "Yes. I know something." "What is it?" "I shan't tell you. Eddy Vail has no hold over me, as I have always kept myself to myself, so far as he is concerned. It is only because I am in love that I make such a fool of myself. But I know!" And she nodded. "Come, tell me," coaxed Perry Toat, seeing in a flash how she could bring the girl to betray whatever she knew about Mr. Vail. "I shan't. You are a detective, and I'm afraid of you. If I did right I should tell Madame Coralie how you come here as a spy." "If you do you will lose any chance of sharing the reward with me," Miss Toat assured her, coolly. "Besides, the mischief is done, and I know a lot." "But you say that you will share the reward with the other girls." "Of course. I shall share it with anyone who can put me on the right scent to trace the murderer. If you know anything"--she looked very straightly at Badoura--"remember you risk five hundred pounds by not telling me." "I shall tell nothing," said Badoura, resolutely, "unless Eddy proves false to me." And she cut short the conversation by going out for a walk. Perry Toat immediately resolved in some way to prove to the girl that Eddy Vail was falseness itself. "But I wonder what she knows?" the detective asked herself as she went in search of Parizade. The blind girl was in her bedroom lying down, as the heat of the day and the hard work in the shop had tried her delicate constitution somewhat severely. The moment she heard Miss Toat's step she called her by name. "How did you know it was me?" asked the newcomer, taking a seat beside the bed. Parizade laughed. "Oh, I can tell your footsteps," she admitted; "that is one way, and the other is by that scent you use." Miss Toat sniffed her handkerchief. "Peruvian Fragrance," she said with a laugh; "yes, it is an uncommon scent. George brings it to me; he's a purser on a steamer, you know." Parizade, in her darkness, groped for the detective's hand. "Yes, dear, I know, and it is because you are in love, as I am, that I like you so much. I don't mind your being a detective at all, but I do hope you'll marry soon and give up the horrid business." "There's no chance of my marrying George until I get this thousand pounds' reward which Sir Joseph Branwin offers." "And I am to get half of it, if I can help you, remember," said the blind girl. "Like yourself, I can't marry Walter until we have money. Then we can live in the country in a tiny cottage, and he can paint his pictures while I look after the household." "But can you do that, Parizade, seeing you are blind?"