“Of course not, of course not,” interrupted the Inspector, with a cordiality and candor that brought her immense relief; “but, you see, the law compels us to look sharp into the ways of all foreigners. The law is that all foreigners are guilty until they can prove themselves innocent—which is very seldom possible.” Ferret made a little movement as if he were going to protest against quite such a bald bit of cruel treatment of an innocent baby, but he remembered his duty and held his tongue. “Oh, is that the law?” asked Kate, with wide eyes. “But surely there must be some foreigners who are as good as English people.” “There may be,” admitted the Inspector sorrowfully; “but the law don’t believe it if it can help it. Now, Miss Mettleby, governesses and servants has opportunities. They sometimes hear and see a good deal that is said and done by the gentry. Mr. and Mrs. Fair never quarrel, I suppose, about a party by the name of Mendes, do they?” The shrewd officer of the law regretted his words as soon as he had spoken them, for Kate sprang to her feet, burning with shame and indignation. “You mistake, sir!” she cried fiercely. “I am not a servant, but the friend of Mrs. Maxwell Fair. And if I were a servant, do you suppose—I despise your insulting innuendo! And I tell you that Mr. Fair is utterly incapable of the crime which I can see that your bloodhound, Mr. Ferret there, thinks he has committed. I am going.” “You are going in a moment—when I allow you to do so,” returned the Inspector, anxious to retrieve his mistake, but also desirous to let her understand that he had authority. “Now don’t be foolish, miss. You fly off into a rage quite unnecessarily, I assure you. Mr. Ferret neither makes nor implies any charge of any sort against Mr. Fair, you know. Now be calm and simply answer my questions—you will have to answer them here or in court, remember. You have heard Mr. and Mrs. Fair speak of one Don Pablo Mendes, I suppose?” “Yes—many times, but always with kindness,” replied Kate stiffly. “Good,” said Sharpe benignly. “Now we are getting on. And this Don Pablo Mendes has been at the house frequently, has he not?” “Never, as far as I know, until today,” answered Kate, still far from mollified. “Mrs. Fair has been—but, no, I sha’n’t say that.” “Oh, I say, don’t half say things in that way, you know,” exclaimed the Inspector, nettled. Then, coaxingly: “You see, miss, when a witness says half of a thing, the law compels us to piece it out as we think best. So out with it. Mrs. Fair has seen Mendes somewhere away from home—you were going to say?” “Yes,” replied Kate, scarlet with shame at the man’s seeming implication, and not a little annoyed by his almost supernatural ability to piece out, as he put it, her half sentences; “but, sir, I’d have you understand that Mrs. Fair always consulted Mr. Fair before meeting Mr. Mendes—always.”