If I can only lay my hands on the coiners
and their factory, there will be a sensation."
"And your reputation will be enhanced."
"I hope so," replied the detective, reddening. "I want a rise
in my salary, as I wish to marry. By the way, how is Miss
Saxon?"
"Very well. You met her, did you not?"
"Yes! You took me to that queer house. What do they call it?
the--'Shrine of the Muses'--where all the sham art exists.
Why do you look so grave, old boy?"
The two men, getting more confidential, were dropping into the
language of school-days and speaking more familiarly. Mallow
did not reply at once, as his servant had just brought in the
coffee. But when each gentleman was supplied with a cup and
they were again alone, he looked gravely at Miles. "I want to
ask your advice," he said, "and if you are my friend--"
"I am, of course I am."
"Well, then, I am as interested in finding out who killed Miss
Loach as you are."
"Why is that?" demanded Jennings, puzzled.
"Before I answer and make a clean breast of it, I should like
you to promise that you will get no one I know into trouble."
Jennings hesitated. "That is a difficult matter. Of course,
if I find the assassin, even if he or she is one of your
friends, I must do my duty."
"Oh, I don't expect anything of that sort," said Mallow
easily, "but why do you say 'he' or 'she'?"
"Well, the person who killed Miss Loach might be a woman."
"I don't see how you make that out," said Cuthbert
reflectively.
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