Davis hung his head in a shame-faced fashion. "I have to admit it, sir. It's no use attempting to deny it, when Carrie gave me away like that." "I have no desire to pry into your past, except so far as it helps me in my present quest. But I expect, in your time, you have associated with a few undesirable characters." Reginald Davis admitted the fact quite frankly. "Now, of course, it is only just a chance. But did you ever come across a man named George Burton, and a young woman who passed as his sister? My first knowledge of them is that they ran a gambling-saloon in Paris, she a good-looking girl, acting as decoy. Then he quitted the card-sharping game and went in for more criminal pursuits." "I did know them, sir. If I tell you what I do know, am I letting myself in for anything?" queried Mr Davis cautiously. "You see, since that awful thing happened, I have turned over a new leaf. Nobody could tempt me to go the least bit on the crook." "Make your mind quite easy, Davis. We have nothing against you. You know that, or you would have hardly dared to come to life again." "Well, sir, I did know George Burton pretty intimately at one time, after he left Paris. He was in the forgery business and he tried to drag me in, but I was clever enough to keep out of it. They used, in his own set, to call him `George the Penman.'" "Good," said Bryant; "and what did you know about the girl?" "Not very much, sir. She passed as his sister, but one or two of his pals believed her to be his wife, although there was no evidence of it." "Did you ever learn anything of her origin?" "Well, one chap who seemed to know more about them than their other pals, told me that she was by way of being a lady, the illegitimate daughter of a man well-known in London Society." "Do you know the name of the man?" Davis tapped his forehead in the effort of recollection. "It's on the tip of my tongue, sir: it will come to me in a moment--a man who was mixed up in a gambling scandal, and had to leave the country. Ah, I have got it now, he was known familiarly as Tommie Esmond." Mr Bryant rose. He had got all he could out of his new acquaintance. The threads in his hand were drawing closer into a web. "Well, Mr Davis, good-day. Many thanks for the information you have given me, it has been very helpful. I will keep in touch with you." "And you think, with me, it was a murder, and not a suicide?" questioned Davis as he left. But Bryant was not the man to express a decided opinion until he was fully justified by the facts. He kept his thoughts to himself till the last moment. He smiled pleasantly. "Time will show. I shall have that body exhumed, as soon as I have made a few further inquiries." Davis had to be content with this oracular utterance, and bowed himself out. He solaced himself by narrating all that had occurred to the wondering Carrie.