-"

"I was a sentimental fool. If I had been wiser you would not have
carried on your wickedness for so long."

"Oh, we have other factories," said Maraquito coolly, "Jennings has not
discovered everything. But your house was certainly an ideal place. I
can't understand how Jennings learned about the secret--"

"The entrance. He learned that from plans left by Maxwell who designed
the same. Emilia poisoned him."

"She did--to preserve her secret. Hale and I thought it was unwise; he
would have joined us. But it was all for the best."

"Apparently you think so," returned Caranby, looking at her with
abhorrence, "seeing you poisoned Tyke in the same way."

"Hale did that and I agreed. It was necessary," said the woman coldly,
"but you appear to know all about the matter."

"Jennings has told me everything. Even to the fact, which he learned
from Hale that you rang that bell."

"I did. I knew Juliet Saxon was in the room, and I wished to get her
arrested. She left the house and I rang the bell as soon as I could
get away from Hale, who did not wish me to draw attention to the
murder. But Juliet was too far away by that time to be caught."

"Why did you wish to hang the poor girl?"

"Because I loved Cuthbert. I would have hanged her with pleasure,"
said Maraquito vindictively. "I hate her!"

"Then why do you wish to see her to-day?"

"To tell her that I give up your nephew."

"That is not in accordance with the sentiments you expressed now."

Maraquito made a gesture of indifference and made no reply. Caranby now
began to suspect that she intended harm to Juliet, and wondered if she
had any weapon about her. That dangling bag could easily carry a stout
knife or a neat little revolver. And Maraquito, as was evident from
the deaths of Maxwell and Tyke, had no idea of the sacredness of life.
Caranby wished he had kept Cuthbert at hand to avert any catastrophe.
He was about to ring and order his servant not to bring Miss Saxon into
the room when Maraquito roused herself from her reverie.

"Do you wish to know anything further?" she asked.

"No. I think you have told me everything."

She smiled scornfully. "I have told you very little. But for the rest
of the information you must apply to Mrs. Octagon."

"Ah! Supposing I wish to learn who killed Emilia?"

"Mrs. Octagon can tell you!" said the woman significantly.

"Do you mean to say--"

"I say nothing. Emilia came to the factory and