“It’s odd,” he said, “how one can live for years in the artificial life of a club like this and not know one’s neighbours in the least. We’re a world to ourselves, and an outside face like that conveys nothing to us; probably the name won’t either. What beats me at present about the photograph is this—how long ago would you say that photograph was taken?” “I’m not an authority on ladies’ fashions, I’m afraid, but surely it’s pre-war.” “Exactly. Now, Brotherhood only came here just at the end of the war, at least, he only joined the Club then; I asked the Secretary about it. And ‘Davenant’ joined even later, only a year or two ago. When a man takes a house here, one assumes that he’s only come here for the golf. But it looks as if Brotherhood, or else his phantom self, Davenant, knew the Binver world already—at least well enough to possess photographs of its belles.” “Not necessarily,” Gordon pointed out. “She may have had no later portrait to give him than that one, even if she gave it him only a year or two ago.” “That’s true. And yet women generally keep their portraits pretty well up-to-date. Here’s another point—from the caddie’s account, it seems that this portrait must have been loose in the pocket; but he can’t always have carried it like that. . . . Good Lord, what a fool I am! What size was the empty frame in Davenant’s cottage?” “Oh, just that size. It’s a common size, of course, but I suppose most likely it was that portrait which ‘Davenant’ caught up in a hurry before he left his house; and crammed it into his pocket anyhow. Assuming, of course, that Carmichael’s right.” “Yes, that makes the thing as clear as daylight, so far. I hope Marryatt makes good time. Look how slow we’ve been on the murderer’s tracks; we’ve given him two full days already.” “By the way,” said Gordon, “I’ve just remembered—Thursday’s early closing day at Binver.” Chapter IX The Animated Picture “Well,” said Reeves impatiently, as Marryatt came, rather late, into the dining-room, “did you find out?” “Yes, I went round to Campbell’s——” “But it’s early closing day.” “Yes, only . . . only Campbell was open, for some reason. He made no difficulty about identifying the portrait or about giving me the address. When he told me the name and address I remembered quite a lot about her.” “Who is she, then?”