"It was a very simple one. She had a country bringing up, having been
born in a small village in Connecticut. She was one of three children and
the only one who has survived; her sister, who was her twin, died when
she was a small child, and a brother some five years ago. Her fortune was
willed her, as I have already told you, by a great-uncle. It is entirely
in her own hands. Left an orphan early, she lived first with her brother;
then when he died, with one relative after another, till lastly she
settled down with the Fultons. I know of no secret in her life, no
entanglement, not even of any prior engagements. Yet that man with the
twisted jaw was not unknown to her, and if he is a relative, as she said,
you should have no difficulty in locating him."

"I have a man on his track," Gerridge replied. "And one on the girl's
too; I mean, of course, Bela Burton's. They will report here up to twelve
o'clock to-night. It is now half-past eleven. We should hear from one or
the other soon."

"And my wife?"

"A description of the clothing she wore has gone out. We may hear from
it. But I doubt if we do to-night unless she has rejoined her maid or the
man with a scar. Somehow I think she will join the girl. But it's hard to
tell yet."

Mr. Ransom could hardly control his impatience. "And I must sit helpless
here!" he exclaimed. "I who have so much at stake!"

The detective evidently thought the occasion called for whatever comfort
it was in his power to bestow.