"I won't be called Pegtop, and as to talking, I have far too much work to do. The lesson will soon be over, and some of the pupils have to take these accounts home. Then dejeuner will soon be ready, and you know how Margot hates having her well-cooked dishes spoilt by waiting. But why are you here instead of at work?" "Hush!" said Miles, laying a finger on her lips. "Papa will hear you." "Not he. Hear the noise his fiddle is making, and he is scolding the poor little wretches like a game-cock." "Does a game-cock scold?" asked Jennings gravely. "I hope he is not in a bad temper, Peggy. I have come to ask him a few questions." "About your own business?" asked she in a lower tone. Jennings nodded. Peggy knew his occupation, but as yet he had not been able to tell Le Beau. The Frenchman cherished all the traditional hatred of his race for the profession of "mouchard," and would not be able to understand that a detective was of a higher standing. Miles was therefore supposed to be a gentleman of independent fortune, and both he and Peggy decided to inform Le Beau of the truth when he had retired from business. Meanwhile, Miles often talked over his business with Peggy, and usually found her clear way of looking at things of infinite assistance to him in the sometimes difficult cases which he dealt with. Peggy knew all about the murder in Crooked Lane, and how Miles was dealing with the matter. But even she had not been able to suggest a clue to the assassin, although she was in full possession of the facts. "It's about this new case I wish to speak," said Jennings. "By the way, Peggy, you know that woman Maraquito I have talked of?" "Yes. The gambling-house. What of her?" "Well, she seems to be implicated in the matter." "In what way?" Jennings related the episode of the photograph, and the incident of the same perfume being used by Mrs. Herne and Maraquito. Peggy nodded. "I don't see how the photograph connects her with the case," she said at length, "but the same perfume certainly is strange. All the same, the scent may be fashionable. Hikui! Hikui! I never heard of it." "It is a Japanese perfume, and Maraquito got it from some foreign admirer. It is strange, as you say." "Have you seen Mrs. Herne?" "I saw her at the inquest. She gave evidence. But I had no conversation with her myself." "Why don't you look her up? You mentioned you had her address." "I haven't it now," said Jennings gloomily. "I called at the Hampstead house, and learned that Mrs. Herne had received such a shock from the death of her friend, Miss Loach, that she had gone abroad and would not return for an indefinite time. So I can do nothing in that quarter just now. It is for this reason that I have come here to ask about Maraquito." "From Papa Le Beau," said Peggy, wrinkling her pretty brows. "What can he know of this woman?" "She was a dancer until she had an accident. Le Beau may have had her through his hands."