t she had to ring three times before the gardener's
footsteps were heard on the uncarpeted stone floor of the hall.

"Aguilar," Mr. Hurley demanded. "Where is the key of the tank-room?"

Audrey sank into a chair, knowing profoundly that all was lost.

"It's at Mrs. Spatt's at Frinton," replied Aguilar glibly. "Mistress lets
her have that room to store some boat-gear in. I expected she'd ha' been
over before this to get it out. But the yachting season seems to start
later and later every year these times."

Audrey gazed at the man as at a miracle-worker.

"Well, I think that's all," said Mr. Hurley.

"No, it isn't," Audrey corrected him. "You've got all my keys in your
pocket--except one."

When the police had gone Audrey said to Aguilar in the hall:

"Aguilar, how on earth did you----"

But she was in such a state of emotion at the realisation of dangers
affronted and past that she could not finish.

"I'm sorry I was so long answering the bell, m'm," replied Aguilar
strangely. "But I'd put my list slippers on--them as your father made me
wear when I come into the house, mornings, to change the plants, and I
thought it better to put my boots on again before I come.... Shall I put
the keys back in the doors, madam?"

So saying he touched his front hair, after his manner, and took the keys
and retired. Audrey was as full of fear as of gratitude. Aguilar daunted
her.

CHAPTER XXXV

THE THIRD SORT OF WOMAN

"It was quite true what I told the detective. So I suppose you've finished
with me for evermore!" Audrey burst out recklessly, as soon as she and
Madame Piriac were alone together. The supreme moment had come, and she
tried to grasp it like a nettle. Her adventurous rashness was, she
admitted, undeniable. She had spoken the truth to the police officer about
her identity and her spinsterhood because with unusual wisdom she judged
that fibs or even prevarication on such a subject to such an audience might
entangle her in far more serious difficulties later on. Moreover, with
Inspector Keeble present, she could not successfully have gone very far
from the truth. It was a pity that Madame Piriac had witnessed the scene,
for really, when Audrey came to face it, the deception which she had
practised upon Madame Piriac was of a monstrous and inexcusable kind. And
now that Madame Piriac knew the facts, many other people would have to know
the facts--including probably Mr. Gilman. The prospect of explanatio