in love with Senora Gredos."

"Perhaps not, sir, but she's in love with him. Yes. You may look and
look, Mr. Jennings, but lame as she is and weak in the back and unable
to move from that couch, she loves him. She had that photograph in her
room and kissed it, as it I saw with my own eyes. I took it the last
thing before I went, as I loved Mr. Mallow too, and I was not going to
let that Spanish lady kiss him even in a picture."

"Upon my word," murmured Jennings, taken aback by this vehemence, "it
is very strange all this."

"Oh, yes, you gentlemen don't think a poor girl has a heart. I couldn't
help falling in love, though he never looked my way. But that Miss
Saxon is a sweet, kind, young lady put upon by her mother, I wouldn't
give him up even to her. But I can see there's no chance for me," wept
Susan, "seeing the way he has gone out, banging the door in a temper,
so I'll give him up. And I'll go now. My heart's broken."

But Jennings made her sit down again. "Not yet, my girl," he said
firmly, "if you wish to do Mr. Mallow a good turn--"

"Oh, I'll do that," she interrupted with sparkling eyes, "after all, he
can't help giving his heart elsewhere. It's just my foolishness to
think otherwise. But how can I help him, sir?"

"He wants to find out who killed Miss Loach."

"I can't help him there, sir. I don't know who killed her. Mrs. Herne
and Mr. Clancy and Mr. Hale were all gone, and when the bell rang she
was alone, dead in her chair with them cards on her lap. Oh," Susan's
voice became shrill and hysterical, "what a horrible sight!"

"Yes, yes," said Jennings soothingly, "we'll come to that shortly, my
girl. But about this photograph. Was it in Senora Gredos'
dressing-room long?"

"For about three months, sir. I saw it one morning when I took up her
breakfast and fell in love with the handsome face. Then Gibber told me
the gentleman came to the house sometimes, and I went up the stairs
against orders after eight to watch. I saw him and found him more
good-looking than the photograph. Often did I watch him and envy Senora
Gredos the picture with them loving words. Sir," said Susan, sitting
up stiffly, "if Mr. Mallow is engaged to Miss Saxon and doesn't love
Senora Gredos, why did he write those words?"

"He did not write them for her," said Jennings doubtfully, "at least I
don't think so. It is impossible to say how the photograph came into
the possession of that lady."

"Will you ask