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"My dear, you look lovely," she said and kissed her. Mr. Briggerland's nose wrinkled, as it always did when his daughter shocked him. Jean Briggerland waited until she heard the sound of the departing car sink to a faint hum, then she went up to her room, opened the bureau and took out a long and tightly fitting dust-coat that she wore when she was motoring.
"Briggerland moved up west," Jack went on, "and when the girl was seventeen she made the acquaintance of a man named Gunnesbury, who went just as mad about her. Gunnesbury was a midland merchant with a wife and family. He was so infatuated with her that he collected all the loose money he could lay his hands on some twenty-five thousand pounds and bolted to the continent.
"Facts!" said the other scornfully. "What facts have you given us?" "The fact of the Briggerlands' history," said Jack desperately. "Briggerland was broke when he married Miss Meredith under the impression that he would get a fortune with his wife. He has lived by his wits all his life, and until this girl was about fifteen, they were existing in a state of poverty.
Briggerland listened moodily whilst Jean related all that she had learnt, for she had been in the salon at the National for a good quarter of an hour before Jack had discovered her. "I thought he would want her to make a will," she said, "and, of course, although she has rejected the idea now, it will grow on her. I think we have the best part of a week."
Meredith, who was jealous of him, and that Mr. Meredith, when he went into the witness-box, behaved disgracefully to his fiancée." "Exactly," nodded Glover with a twinkle in his eye. "In other words, he repudiated the suggestion that he was jealous, swore that he had already told Miss Briggerland that he could not marry her, and he did not even know that Bulford was paying attention to the lady."
Briggerland suddenly. "Ask him," she said. "Marcus is getting a little troublesome. I thought he had learnt his lesson and had realised that I am not built for matrimony, especially for a hectic attachment to a man who gains his livelihood by cheating at cards." "Now, now, my dear," said her father. "Please don't be shocked," she mocked him. "You know as well as I do how Marcus lives."
"I suppose you have everything cut and dried as usual," growled Mr. Briggerland. "What is your plan?" "I have three," said Jean thoughtfully, "and two are particularly appealing to me because they do not involve the employment of any third person." "Had you one which brought in somebody else?" asked Briggerland in surprise. "I thought a clever girl like you "
"Number one?" "The nearly-a-fatal accident in Berkeley Street," said Jack. "Will you explain by what miracle the car arrived at the psychological moment?" she asked. "That's easy," he said with a smile. "Old man Briggerland lit his cigar standing on the steps of the house. That light was a brilliant one, Jaggs tells me. It was the signal for the car to come on.
"Well, Rennett, do you think we're going to get into hot water, or are we going to perjure our way to safety?" "There's no need for perjury, not serious perjury," said the other carefully. "By the way, Jack, where was Briggerland the night Bulford was murdered?"
There was something so mysterious, so ugly in his outlook on life, and there might not be a little self-interest in his care for her. She stood on the step of the house talking to the girl, whilst Mr. Briggerland lit a cigarette with a patent lighter. Hyde Park Crescent was deserted save for a man who stood near the railings which protected the area of Mrs. Cole-Mortimer's house.
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