Fanks leaned forward and looked into her eyes. "Miss Colmer," he said in a low tone, "tell me who killed Sir Gregory?" "I do not know; I swear I do not know. See here, Mr. Fanks," she cried, suddenly, "I do not know the truth, but I have an inkling of the truth; I may be wrong; I fervently trust that I am wrong; still I am doubtful; very, very doubtful. I can't tell you of my suspicions: they might get an innocent person into trouble." "Are you alluding to Hersham?" "I decline to say; by my advice Mr. Hersham is about to tell you all he knows; I cannot take the words out of his mouth; he would never forgive me; and I do not wish to lose his love." "Then you mean Mrs. Boazoph?" "I refuse to speak; I shall leave you if you ask further questions," she said, almost fiercely. "You nearly discovered what I think is the truth in those chambers; I did not know that you were there, but I went up to Half-Moon Street to prevent the truth being discovered, if I could. I failed because you were present." Fanks sat up alertly. She had given him a clue. "Is the truth to be discovered in Half-Moon Street?" he asked, eagerly. Anne moistened her dry lips, and turned away her face. "Yes! I believe it is," she murmured, "and I hope you will never discover it." She was so moved that Fanks thought she was about to faint. With considerable dexterity he left the question alone for a time and turned the conversation toward the subject of Mrs. Boazoph. "You have not yet told me about this portrait," he said, gently. "I will do so now," said Anne, recovering her nerve, "Mrs. Boazoph is my mother's sister; she is my aunt." "Oh!" said Fanks, considerably astonished, "then how is it that your mother does not know the name of Boazoph?" "Because she only knows her sister as Mrs. Bryant." "But I do not understand," said Fanks, rather bewildered. "The matter is easy of explanation. My mother is a gentlewoman, although we keep a shop; and she is very proud of her birth and blood. The behaviour of my sister nearly killed her. You can, therefore, guess what she would think of my aunt, Mrs. Boazoph, did she know that she kept a notorious hotel in Tooley's Alley; and was so well known to the police as she is." Fanks looked at this woman in astonishment. It was so strange to hear her speak in this manner of her own flesh and blood. Anne noticed his astonishment; and a faint blush crept over her cheek. "I see what you are thinking of, Mr. Fanks. But I know my aunt; she has told me all about her unhappy life. Believe me, she is more to be pitied than blamed." "Like Hersham?" said Links, dryly.