getting more complicated every day. Did you give that
photograph to Senora Gredos?"

"To Maraquito. No, I didn't. I gave it to Juliet."

"You are certain?"

"Positive! I can't make out how it came into Maraquito's house."

Jennings pondered. "Perhaps Basil may have given it to her. It is to
his interest on behalf of his mother to make trouble between you and
Miss Saxon. Moreover, if it is as I surmise, it shows that Mrs.
Octagon intended to stop the marriage, if she could, even before her
sister died."

"Ah! And it shows that the death of Miss Loach gave her a chance of
asserting herself and stopping the marriage."

"Well, she might have hesitated to do that before, as Miss Loach might
not have left her fortune to Juliet if the marriage did not take place."

Cuthbert nodded and spoke musingly: "After all, the old woman liked me,
and I was the nephew of the man who loved her in her youth. Her heart
may have been set on the match, and she might have threatened to leave
her fortune elsewhere if Mrs. Octagon did not agree. Failing this,
Mrs. Octagon, through Basil, gave that photograph to Maraquito in the
hope that Juliet would ask questions of me--"

"And if she had asked questions?" asked Jennings quickly.

Cuthbert looked uncomfortable. "Don't think me a conceited ass," he
said, trying to laugh, "but Maraquito is in love with me. I stayed
away from her house because she became too attentive. I never told you
this, as no man has a right to reveal a woman's weakness. But, as
matters are so serious, it is right you should know."

"I am glad I do know. By the way, Cuthbert, what between Miss Saxon,
Susan Grant and Maraquito, you will have a hard time."

"How absurd!" said Mallow angrily. "Juliet is the only woman I love
and Juliet I intend to marry."

"Maraquito will prevent your marriage."

"If she can," scoffed Cuthbert.

Jennings looked grave. "I am not so sure but what she can make
mischief. There's Mrs. Herne who may or may not be the mother of this
Spanish demon--"

"Perhaps the demon herself," ventured Mallow.

"No!" said the detective positively. "Maraquito can't move from her
couch. You know that. However, I shall call on Mrs. Herne at
Hampstead. She was a witness, you know? Keep quiet, Mallow, and let
me make inquiries. Meantime, ask Miss Saxon when she missed that
photograph."

"Can you see your way now?"

"I have a slight clue. But it will be a long time before I lear