e
regarded her closely. He decided that her affection for Mrs. Holymead
was not simulated, and that it would be best to handle her from that
point of view.

"I am sorry," he said coldly, "but I do not see how I can help you."

"Monsieur," said the Frenchwoman, clasping her hands, "I entreat you not
to say so. It would be so easy for you to help--not me, but Madame."

"How?"

"You know this police agent. You also are a police agent, though so much
greater. Therefore you whisper just one little word in the ear of your
friend the police agent, and he will not bother Madame Holymead again. I
think you could do this. And if you need money to give to the police
agent, why, I have brought some." She fumbled nervously at her hand-bag.

"Stay," said Crewe. "What you ask is impossible. I have nothing whatever
to do with Scotland Yard. I could not interfere in their inquiries, even
if I wished to. They would only laugh at me."

Gabrielle's dark eyes showed her disappointment, but she made one more
effort to gain her end. She leant nearer to Crewe, and laid a persuasive
hand on his arm.

"If you would only make the effort," she said coaxingly, "my beautiful
Madame Holymead would be for ever grateful."

"Mademoiselle, once more I repeat that what you ask is impossible,"
returned Crewe decisively. "I repeat, I cannot see why Mrs. Holymead
should object to answering a few questions the police wish to ask her.
She is too sensitive about such a trifle."

Gabrielle shrugged her shoulders slightly in tacit recognition of the
fact that the man in front of her was too shrewd to be deceived by
subterfuge.

"There is another reason, monsieur," she whispered.

"You had better tell it to me."

"If you had been a woman you would have guessed. The great judge who was
killed was in his spare moments what you call a gallant--he did love my
sex. In France this would not matter, but in England they think much of
it--so very much. Madame Holymead is frightened for fear the least breath
of scandal should attach to her name, if the world knew that the police
agent had visited her house on such an errand. Madame is innocent--it is
not necessary to assure you of that; but the prudish dames of England are
censorious."

"The Scotland Yard people are not likely to disclose anything about it,"
said Crewe.

"That may be so, but these things come out," retorted Gabrielle.

"Monsieur," she added, after a pause, and speaking in a low tone, "I