it all at a glance. That, then, was the meaning of Dr. Marten's
warning! No wonder, I thought, the shock had disorganised my whole
brain. If Minnie was right, I was in love once with that man. And I
must have seen my lover murder my father!

For I didn't doubt, from what Minnie said, I had really once loved
Dr. Ivor. Horrible and ghastly as it might be to realise it, I
didn't doubt it was the truth. I had once loved the very man I was
now bent on pursuing as a criminal and a murderer!

"You're sure that's him, Minnie?" I cried, trying to conceal my
agitation. "You're sure that's Courtenay Ivor, the man stooping on
the wagon-top?"

Minnie looked at me, smiling. She thought I was asking for a very
different reason.

"Yes, that's him, right enough, dear," she said. "I could tell him
among a thousand. Why, the Moore hand alone would be quite enough to
know him by. It's just like my own. We've all of us got it--except
yourself. I always said you weren't one of us. You're a regular born
Callingham."

I gazed at her fixedly. I could hardly speak.

"Oh, Minnie!" I cried once more, "have you ... have you any
photograph of him?"

"No, we haven't, dear," Minnie answered.