We returned at once to Moreton Gardens, where Boyd met us. My mind was in a whirl as I tried to fit this revelation into the idea that I had formed of things.
“There’s no doubt of one thing,” Lewis was saying. “That is, that Scoville and Miss Dean, disguised as the Talbots, have carried on an extensive business in blackmail for four or five years. It’s chastening thought. It shows the fallacy, Richard, of the theory that one can’t hide in London. Look at that business in Torquay. The man changed his name and carried on an elaborate swindle not a hundred yards from where he was wanted for another fraudulent operation. He had to commit suicide before it came out. At that, it was just in time to prevent him from involving a rather decent girl in a bigamous relationship.”
“But the police,” I
