This reason, which was a trifle weak, since she seemed to bear her husband's loss with great stoicism, awakened suspicions in Lucian's mind as to her truthfulness. However, these were too vague and confused to be put into words, so the young man remained silent until Mrs. Vrain and her father departed. This they did almost immediately, after the widow had given her London and country addresses to the detective, in case he should require her in the conduct of the case. This matter being attended to, she left the room, with a parting smile and especial bow to Lucian. Link smiled in his turn as he observed this Parthian shaft, the shooting of which was certainly out of keeping with Mrs. Vrain's character of a mourning widow. "You seem to have made an impression on the lady, Mr. Denzil," he said, with a slight cough to conceal his amusement. "Nonsense!" replied Lucian, his fair face crimsoning with vexation. "She seems to me one of those shallow women who would sooner flirt with a tinker than pass unnoticed by the male sex. I don't like her," he concluded, with some abruptness. "On what grounds?" "Well, she spoke very hardly about her husband, and seemed rather more concerned about this assurance money than his death. She is a flippant doll, with a good deal of the adventuress about her. I don't think," said the barrister significantly, "that she is altogether so ignorant of this matter as she pretends to be." The detective raised his eyebrows. "You don't propose to accuse her of the murder?" he asked sceptically. "Oh, no!" answered Denzil hastily. "I don't say she is as guilty as all that; but she knows something, or suspects something." "How do you make that out?" "She fainted at the mention of stiletto; and I am convinced that Vrain--as I suppose we must call him now--was killed with one. And again, Link, this woman admitted that she had married her elderly husband in Florence. Now, Florence, as you know, is an Italian town; a stiletto is an Italian weapon. Putting these two things together, what do you make of Mrs. Vrain's fainting?" "I make nothing of it, Mr. Denzil. You are too suspicious. The woman had no reason to rid herself of her husband as you hint." "What about the assurance money?" "There is a motive there, certainly--a motive of gain. Still, I think you are making a mountain out of a molehill, for I am satisfied that she knows no more who committed the crime than does the Pope himself." "It is as well to look in every direction," said Lucian obstinately.