"I don't know her at all."

"Come now. A man doesn't give a portrait with such an
inscription to any unknown girl, nor to one he is not in love
with."

"Jennings," cried Mallow indignantly, "how can you think--"
his voice died away and he clenched his hands.

"What am I to think then?" demanded the detective.

"What you like."

"That you love this Susan Grant?"

"I tell you I never set eyes on her," said Cuthbert violently.

"Then how does she come into possession of your portrait?"
asked the other. Then seeing that Mallow refused to speak, he
laid a persuasive hand on his shoulder. "You must speak out,"
he said quickly, "you have told me so much you must tell me
all. Matters can't stand as they are. No," here Jennings
looked straight into Mallow's eyes, "you did not give that
portrait to Susan Grant."

"I never said so."

"Don't be an ass, Mallow. You say you don't know the girl,
therefore you can hardly have given her the photograph. Now