"Oh! you needn't get so angry," said Torry with a shrug. "I am convinced there is no love affair between them. I'm not so sure in your case."
"Never mind me," said the novelist, blushing; "go on with your explanation."
"It is very simple. Donna Maria and Vass have an understanding relative to this murder."
"You don't believe they know the assassin?" cried Darrel, aghast.
"I haven't got so far as that; but, they know something of the Blue Mummy Society, for the sight of the tomb-image had the same effect--even a worse one--on them as it had on Blake. And the society according to Blake, is responsible for the Grent and Brawn murders."
"By the hand of Manuel," said Frank, "and you deny his guilt?"
"Yes, I do," retorted the detective energetically. "But we argued that point before. Let it pass. To return to Vass and Donna Maria: it is strange that they should have met in the West End on the very day, so to speak of the murder."
"Bah! I don't believe in these sort of accidents. Well, I have failed to extort the truth from the lady; perhaps the gentleman may be more amenable to reason. I shall see Vass to-morrow."
There was a short silence during which Darrel reflected seriously about the aspect of the case. In a moment or so he raised his head. "It seems to me," said he, "that while suspecting Donna Maria and Vass over-much you don't suspect Lydia Hargone sufficiently."
"I don't know so much about that," said Torry with a dry smile. "I am having her watched. She does not know that, and acting in fancy security, may betray herself. I explained this to Donna Maria."
"What do you think of this mantle affair?"
"Why, I incline to Miss Sandoval's views. I believe that Grent was in love with Lydia, and that for her own purposes--whatever they may be--she encouraged his folly so openly as to incur the suspicions of Donna Inez. Also, I believe that she promised to elope to Italy with Grent, but instead of going herself sent Julia. Grent, recognising the mantle, and not seeing the face, which--if you remember the cabman's evidence--was veiled, thought it was Lydia's. Then----" Torry stopped.
"Faith, as Blake would say, you'll have to supply the rest of the story from your imagination; mine won't carry me further."