"No!" said Fanks, after a moment's reflection, "I shall not ask your mother--yet." As a matter of fact, the detective was well assured that mother and daughter had prepared an alibi in case of discovery. Not being ready to analyse the matter, by reason of lack of information, and certain that Anne would persist in her denial, he wisely postponed all discussion until a more fitting occasion. He, therefore, on the face of it, accepted Anne's assertion, and merely remarked that Hersham was foolish to induce her to conceal what had better have been told. To this, Anne replied, promptly: "You must forgive him, Mr. Fanks," she said. "He knows that I hated Sir Gregory for his treatment of my sister; and he fancies that my unlucky visit might implicate me in this matter. But I have told you the reason I went there; so you must blame or excuse me as you see fit." "I shall do neither, at present," said Fanks, significantly. "But I shall ask you why you ran away from me on that day?" "I was afraid of you." "Why, you did not know me; you never saw me before." "I saw your portrait," said Miss Colmer, frankly. "You gave one to Ted--Mr. Hersham--and he told me that you were a detective. When I saw you in those chambers I guessed that you had the case in hand; and I was seized with a panic fear lest you should suspect me to be mixed up in the crime. For that reason I fled. How did you trace me?" "It was wrong of you to go, Miss Colmer," said Fanks, not replying directly, "and I was naturally suspicious of your flight." "But you don't suspect me now?" "Not since you have explained your visit. You ask me how I traced you. First, from your marvellous resemblance to your dead sister; and, secondly, from the post mark on this envelope. As I told you, the writing on envelope and portrait are the same. You see the connection?" "Yes. I see the connection. And now, Mr. Fanks, I have told you all I know; is there any other question you wish to ask me?" "Yes. Where was this photograph taken you wanted?" "In this village." "Was it your sister's possession?" "It was; it was the only photograph we had of her. The negative was broken and there was no picture of my sister in existence. After the death, my mother wanted this picture; and, as I guessed that it might be at Sir Gregory's chambers, I went up for it." "Did you see it in your sister's possession before she went away with Sir Gregory?" "Yes. She took it from here when she went to London." "Was there any writing on the back then?" Anne reflected a moment. "No," she said. "There was no writing on it then." "Do you think your sister wrote on the back of the portrait before she committed suicide?" "If the writing on the back of the photograph is the same as that on this letter--or rather, envelope--I do not think she wrote it. This is not my sister's handwriting." "You cannot think who wrote it?" "No, Mr. Fanks; I am entirely ignorant of that."