"Cuthbert told it to me."

"Quite right," said Caranby, nodding, "I asked him to. It
seems to me that in my romance may be found the motive for the
death of Selina Loach."

The detective thought over the story. "I don't quite see--"

"Nor do I. All the same--" Caranby waved his hand and
abruptly changed the subject. "Do you know why I came here
to-night?"

"No. I did not know you ever came to such places."

"Nor do I. My life is a quiet one now. I came to see this
woman you call Maraquito."

"What do you call her?" asked Jennings alertly.

"Ah, that I can't tell you. But she is no Spaniard."

"Is she a Jewess by any chance?"

Caranby turned to look directly at his companion. "You ought
to be able to tell that from her face," he said, "can you not
see the seal of Jacob impressed there--that strange look
which stamps a Hebrew?"

"No," confessed Jennings, "that is, I can see it now, but I
came here for many a long day before I did guess she was a