"Well, I saw him in King Street to-night, but he didn’t see me." Then, after a pause, he added: "I think, miss, you’re mistaken regarding Mr. Boyne. I only know him slightly, but I know in what respect he is held in the neighbourhood, and how his praises are upon everyone’s lips—especially the church people." "Then you don’t think that he has anything to do with Mr. Durrant’s disappearance?" "Not in the least. I should dismiss that idea from my mind at once." "But how about that locked room?" "Your aunt will be able to fathom that if she keeps her eyes open," he said. "And as for Mr. Durrant, you’ll no doubt hear from him very soon. To me it seems perfectly clear that he has some hidden motive for keeping out of the way. Are his accounts at the office all right, for instance?" "Quite in order." "Blackmail may be at the bottom of it. That accounts for the mysterious disappearance of lots of men and women." "But who could blackmail Mr. Durrant?" "Ah! you don’t know. A little slip, a year or so ago, and the screw is now being put on by those who know the truth. Oh! that is an everyday occurrence in London, I assure you, Miss Ramsay." "Then you can’t help me to find him?" she asked eagerly, after a brief silence. "I don’t see how we can act," was the officer’s answer. "Had he disappeared without a word we would, of course, circulate his description and a photograph—if you have one?" "Yes, I have one," she said anxiously. "Good. But that is useless to us, for the simple reason that, after leaving you, he has sent you messages telling you not to worry. In face of that, how can we assume that anything tragic has happened to him? No, my dear young lady," he added. "I fear we cannot help you officially, much as I regret it." Five minutes later Marigold descended the stairs, and walked out into the dark road utterly disconsolate and disappointed. Gerald was missing, yet the police would raise not a finger to assist her in tracing him! Yet, after all, as she walked back to Bridge Place, she saw quite clearly that there was much truth in the detective-inspector’s argument. Gerald had not suddenly disappeared and left no trace. He had urged her not to worry, and the inspector had advised her to keep on hoping for his return. Later she sat in the kitchen with her aunt, and related all that had passed at the police-station. "I quite agree with the inspector," declared the deaf old woman. "The police can’t search for every man who goes away and sends telegrams saying he has gone. You see, Mr. Durrant hasn’t committed any crime, for instance. So there’s no real reason why the police should act. If he hadn’t sent telegrams the case would be so different." With that view the girl, greatly distressed and broken, had to agree. It was then nearly ten o’clock, and at her aunt’s suggestion Marigold resolved to stay the night and keep the old woman company.