"Yes," said Spargo. "I--the fact is, I remembered that you said you
were coming up here, and I came after you. I want--when you've time--to
have a talk, to ask you a few questions. About--this affair of the dead
man, you know."

Breton nodded. He tapped Spargo on the arm.

"Look here," he said. "When this case of mine is over, I can give you
as much time as you like. Can you wait a bit? Yes? Well, I say, do me a
favour. I was taking these ladies round to the gallery--round there,
and up the stairs--and I'm a bit pressed for time--I've a solicitor
waiting for me. You take them--there's a good fellow; then, when the
case is over, bring them down here, and you and I will talk. Here--I'll
introduce you all--no ceremony. Miss Aylmore--Miss Jessie Aylmore. Mr.
Spargo--of the _Watchman_. Now, I'm off!" Breton turned on the instant;
his gown whisked round a corner, and Spargo found himself staring at
two smiling girls. He saw then that both were pretty and attractive,
and that one seemed to be the elder by some three or four years.

"That is very cool of Ronald," observed the elder young lady. "Perhaps
his scheme doesn't fit in with yours, Mr. Spargo? Pray don't--"

"Oh, it's all right!" said Spargo, feeling himself uncommonly stupid.
"I've nothing to do. But--where did Mr. Breton say you wished to be
taken?"

"Into the gallery of number seven court," said the younger girl
promptly. "Round this corner--I think I know the way."

Spargo, still marvelling at the rapidity with which affairs were moving