In spite of the
mask of age which she had assumed, her eyes filled with
youthful vigor and fire betrayed her. They shone brilliantly
from her wrinkled face. Her hair was concealed under a close
cap, above which she wore a broad-brimmed hat. This
head-dress would have been remarkable a few years back, but
now that ladies are reverting to the fashions of their
grandmothers, it passed unnoticed. With a plain black dress,
a black cloak trimmed profusely with beads, mittened hands and
an ebony cane, she looked quite funereal. To complete the
oddity of her dress a black satin bag dangled by ribbons from
her left arm. In this she carried her handkerchief and--
something else. As usual, she was perfumed with the Hikui
scent. Caranby noticed this, and when she did not reply to
his remark, pointed out its danger to her.
"If you wish to escape the police, you must stop using so
unusual a perfume, Miss Saul--"
"Call me Maraquito; I am used to that name," she said harshly,
and seated herself near the fire, shivering to keep up a
character of old age, with slowly circulating blood.
"Let us say Maraquita," answered Caranby, smiling, "we may as
well be grammatical. But this perfume betrays you. Jennings
knows that your friends use it as a sign."
"Quite so," she answered, "it was clever of Jennings to have
guessed its meaning. I invented the idea. But he is ill, and
I don't think he has told anyone else about it.
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