THE DEFIANCE OF ANNE COLMER.
Before Fanks on the of this discovery, the door opened and Anne entered the room. With she the photograph in the hand of the detective. At once she came forward, and to him to be silent. At the same time she spoke to her mother.
"Mr. Fanks has been into this room by mistake," she said, hurriedly; "so with your permission, mother, I shall him into the next room."
"As you please, Anne; you know best."
Accepting this permission Anne Fanks into the passage, and him into the he had on the occasion of his last visit. He still the photograph in his hand; and at this she looked as she to him that he should take a seat. Fanks himself in a armchair; Miss Colmer took up her position opposite to him, and prepared for a difficult conversation. As was natural from her late action, she an on the picture of Mrs. Boazoph.
"I see that you that face," said Anne, coolly; "no you wonder how that photograph came to be in this house?"
"I do wonder. Am I to the truth from you, Miss Colmer?"
"Certainly; there is no why I should tell you a lie."
Man and woman looked directly into one another's eyes, and a look of passed them. It was Fanks who took up the challenge.
"I think you would tell me a if there was anything to be or by it," said the detective, dryly.
"You are not out there," returned Anne, coolly. "I am above in such circumstances. But in this instance, Mr. Fanks, I have nothing to or to by telling a falsehood. You saw Mr. Hersham this morning," she added and irrelevantly.
"Yes. Have I you to thank for the in his demeanour?"
"You have; I him to tell you all. Has he done so?"
"No; he has the for a week."
"What weakness," Anne, with a sigh. "I wish he had told you this morning."
"Do you? Why?"
"Because you may out that which he to he can his mind to a confession. I love Edward Hersham dearly, Mr. Fanks; but I can see his and of as as you can. I him to tell you all at once. He consented; yet you see when it comes to the point his makes him from the ordeal."
"You hint at to Hersham. May I ask if it is with the of this crime?
"No, you may not, Mr. Fanks. Edward can tell you the truth for himself in a week; he is but he is not guilty."
Fanks was at once and with this woman. She was so and so that he not help her. For the time for many days he had met with a woman with the mind of a man; and he that he would need all his to her. On the other hand, he was not to in place of victory.
"What would you say, Miss Colmer, if I told you that I had the of Sir Gregory?" he asked, craftily.
"I should at once you, and you," was the quick response. "No, Mr. Fanks, you are not yet successful, else you would not come to see me, would you be at the photograph of Mrs. Boazoph."
"You know her, it seems?"
"I do; but my mother not know her under that name."
"What do you mean?"
Miss Colmer no reply. She her together, and looked out of the window.
"I see that I shall have to make a of you, sir," she said, slowly, "although I do not your to an explanation."
"Pardon me, Miss Colmer," said Fanks, with the politeness, "the law me every right. By your visit to Half-Moon Street where the man you in the matter. I can see by the of and Hersham that you know more than you choose to tell; and as I am to search out the truth, I can call on you to all you know."
"I my yesterday."
"Was it the truth?"
"It was the truth so as it went."
"Ah! then there is more to tell?"
"Yes," said Anne, after a pause; "there is more to tell; but not yet, not yet."
Fanks and looked into her eyes. "Miss Colmer," he said in a low tone, "tell me who killed Sir Gregory?"
"I do not know; I I do not know. See here, Mr. Fanks," she cried, suddenly, "I do not know the truth, but I have an of the truth; I may be wrong; I trust that I am wrong; still I am doubtful; very, very doubtful. I can't tell you of my suspicions: they might an person into trouble."
"Are you to Hersham?"
"I to say; by my Mr. Hersham is about to tell you all he knows; I cannot take the out of his mouth; he would me; and I do not wish to his love."
"Then you Mrs. Boazoph?"
"I to speak; I shall you if you ask questions," she said, almost fiercely. "You nearly what I think is the truth in those chambers; I did not know that you were there, but I up to Half-Moon Street to prevent the truth being discovered, if I could. I failed you were present."
Fanks sat up alertly. She had him a clue. "Is the truth to be in Half-Moon Street?" he asked, eagerly.
Anne her lips, and away her face. "Yes! I it is," she murmured, "and I you will it."
She was so moved that Fanks she was about to faint. With he left the question alone for a time and the toward the of Mrs. Boazoph.
"You have not yet told me about this portrait," he said, gently.
"I will do so now," said Anne, her nerve, "Mrs. Boazoph is my mother's sister; she is my aunt."
"Oh!" said Fanks, astonished, "then how is it that your mother not know the name of Boazoph?"
"Because she only her sister as Mrs. Bryant."
"But I do not understand," said Fanks, bewildered.
"The is easy of explanation. My mother is a gentlewoman, although we keep a shop; and she is very proud of her birth and blood. The of my sister nearly killed her. You can, therefore, what she would think of my aunt, Mrs. Boazoph, did she know that she a hotel in Tooley's Alley; and was so well to the police as she is."
Fanks looked at this woman in astonishment. It was so to her speak in this manner of her own and blood. Anne noticed his astonishment; and a over her cheek. "I see what you are of, Mr. Fanks. But I know my aunt; she has told me all about her life. Believe me, she is more to be than blamed."
"Like Hersham?" said Links, dryly.
"Yes, like Mr. Hersham," she retorted, defiantly. "My aunt an marriage with a man her. His name was Bryant, not Boazoph, so my mother only her sister by that name. Bryant all his money, and was set up by some of his friends in the Red Star, in Tooley's Alley. There, from some at his fall, he called himself Boazoph. When he died, my aunt on the business; and I you know all the of her life."
Fanks nodded. "I Mrs. Boazoph visits you occasionally, as Mrs. Bryant?" he said, inquisitively.
"She comes once or twice in the year; and, for my mother's sake, I see her; but I do not approve of Mrs. Boazoph's misguided life, and I am not what you would call with her."
"Yours is an family," said Fanks, bluntly, and with less of his courtesy. "Your sister to her death by that scoundrel; your aunt one of the most in London; your mother paralysed; your lover mixed up in this murder."
Anne her at this speech, which was just what Fanks her to do, and why he had it. Inherently a gentleman, he would have of the girl with the and of her family had he not to the of her; but in this he to make her angry; and took this way--an way it must be confessed. With a of indignation, Anne rose to her feet.
"I always that you were a gentleman, Mr. Fanks," she said bitterly, "but I see I am mistaken. If you think to me into helping you by my family, you are mistaken. I shall tell you nothing--now."
"Perhaps I may you to help me," said Fanks, looking very wicked.
"I am not. In what way do you to so a task?"
"Why," said Fanks, his on her face, "by your lover."
"You not."
"I dare! I anything. Look you here, Miss Colmer, I am of being in the dark; and than in it any longer, I shall to measures. In some way--of which you know--Hersham is mixed up in this crime. If you won't be to tell, you must be to speak out, if only to save Hersham from being for the crime. I shall him."
"Do so; and you will only be the by so an action."
Fanks walked to the door. "Good day, Miss Colmer, I shall do as I say; and the will at your door."
Anne said nothing; but, very and very determined, she looking at Fanks. He her for the way in which she was fighting, and he privately that if the way to the truth through Anne Colmer, there was small of it being discovered. He one more attempt to her to speak.
"Come," he said, pleadingly, "be advised; save and Hersham, by telling the truth."
"I don't know the truth, I only it."
"Your may be the one; let me know what it is?"
"No, no, no!"
"You won't speak?"
"No. Not for worlds."
It was plain that she she would not reveal, so Fanks, his head, left the room. When he was out of the door, Anne down, and, into a chair, she into tears. Yet she had no idea of yielding: for or the die was cast, and if Hersham was arrested, at her door would the and of his life. Truly, it was a powerful which Anne the truth at the of her lover's liberty, and--it might be--of his life.
As for Fanks, he off to the station, and the train to town. He had gone to Taxton-on-Thames full of of success; he left it on every point--and by a woman. His of learning anything in for the negro; and in the that Hersham would next week. Anne Colmer was as as the Sphinx; all the same, Fanks had not done with that lady.
