When Olga announced the name of her visitor, the Princess rose to leave the room. She explained that she did not think it was in keeping with the dignity of her position to meet every shady person who called, and added that her daughter was not behaving in a way worthy of her name and princely family. When she departed Olga looked inquiringly at Ware. He swiftly interpreted her look.

"I shall stop," he said promptly. "I am only too anxious to help you."

Olga came forward and took his hand. "And you forgive me?" she asked.

"There is nothing to forgive," he answered, shaking it heartily. "Let us seek for Anne together. I daresay Dane will be able to tell us where she is. I leave you to manage him."

The girl nodded and touched the bell. Shortly the maid showed in a slim young fellow of a somewhat effeminate type. He was clean-shaven and wonderfully pale, with large dark eyes and curly black hair, worn rather long. He was dressed in a grey suit and wore a red scarf tied loosely in a bow. There was something foreign in his looks and dress. At the first sight one would have taken him for an Italian, but when he spoke it was apparent that he was an Englishman.

"Princess!" he said effusively, when he entered. Then catching sight of Giles in the background, he stopped short with a scared look.

"This is a friend of mine, Mark," said Olga, coming forward. "He knows all that there is to be known."

"Oh! And you promised not to say a word," said Dane reproachfully.

She shook her head. "I promised to save you from being arrested, and I shall fulfil my promise. Why have you come here?"

Dane fumbled in his pocket. "Your letter," he said, handing it to her.

Olga took it, glanced at it, and finally passed it to Ware.

"I did not write that letter," she said quietly. "Steel the detective sent it, so as to bring you here. He wishes to resume the conversation you left unfinished at Bournemouth."

"It's a trap!" cried Dane violently, and swung round to the door. But there was no chance of escape in that direction. He opened it to find Steel standing without. The detective stepped into the room and locked the door.

"Now," he said, "we can have some conversation. Princess, I apologize for having used your name unauthorized, but it was the only way to bring this young man into my net."

"Into a net!" said Dane, letting fall his soft hat. "You intend to have me arrested!" His hand went round to the back of his waist. In a moment Steel had flung himself forward, and after a short struggle disarmed him. The knife that the detective had secured was an ugly-looking weapon.

"You are more Italian than the Italians," he said, slipping the knife into his pocket; "but you are not a gentleman to frighten the lady."

"I am not frightened," said Olga promptly; "but I am very tired. I shall retire and leave you two gentlemen to deal with Mark."

Dane sprang forward and caught her dress. He looked terrified. "Do not leave me," he entreated. "You know that I love you, and that for your sake I have betrayed a man who has done much for me. You promised to help me."

"I shall do so," she answered, returning to her seat. "I shall see that you are not arrested, and – "

"Pardon me, Princess, it may be necessary to – "

"Mr. Steel, this man shall not be arrested," she said, stamping her foot.

"If I am," cried Dane resolutely, "I shall say nothing. Only to save myself will I speak."

Ware addressed a few hurried words to the detective, who nodded reluctantly. It was Giles who spoke. "I promise that you shall not be put in gaol, Dane," he said, "but you must tell the truth."

"If I do so I am in danger of my life."

"Then it is not gratitude that keeps you silent?"

"Gratitude!" said Dane, flinging back his head, "what have I to be grateful for? Mr. Franklin – "

"You mean Denham," interposed Olga quickly.

"Denham!" echoed Steel, "that is the father of the governess."

"No," said Giles, "Anne's father is dead. This man Denham pretended to play the part, and she has only lately been undeceived. Also, Mr. Steel, you must know that there is no Walter Franklin. The man at the Priory is the scoundrel you know as Wilson, the head of the Scarlet Cross Society and the murderer of Miss Kent."

"Not that last," interposed Dane, while Steel dropped into a seat transfixed with astonishment. "Denham did not kill her. He does not know who did. He told me so."

"He would tell you anything to save himself," said Olga.

"No," replied Dane, "he tells me all his secrets. At one time I should have died before I revealed them, but Denham has treated me cruelly. I owe him no gratitude. For years I slaved for him. I did all that a man could do for his sake. What reward have I got? He has beaten me like a dog. He has left me to starve. He has delivered me up to those members of our society who hate me. Since he came in for this money – "

"Wrongfully," put in Giles.

"As you say, sir – wrongfully. But since he became George Franklin and a wealthy man, he told me plainly that he washed his hands of me. He gave me a small sum, and sent me to America, promising an annuity. It was not paid. I wrote – I threatened. He laughed at me. So I have come back from America to punish him." He turned to Olga and continued vehemently, "Do you think that I would have told you what I did, Princess, had I not hated the man? No. Not even for the love I bear you would I have done that. You sent me to Mr. Steel at Bournemouth. I knew that he was a detective, and went prepared to tell all about Denham's wickedness, even although I incriminated myself."

"But you did not do so," said Steel dryly; "you ran away."

"And why? Because you mentioned that you suspected Miss Denham of a crime. I held my tongue until I could see some chance of proving her innocence. Had I told you all I knew then you would have had her arrested, and let her know the shame of the man – her father."

"He is not her father," said Olga again.

"I know nothing about that," replied Dane, sitting down; "he always said that he was her father, and I had no reason to believe otherwise. But I am glad to hear that he is not. She is too good and pure to be the daughter of such a man. I have known her for years. She is an angel. She nursed me through an illness. I would do anything to prove my gratitude for her sake. I held my hand from harming Denham because I thought he was her father, and – "

"You need do so no longer," cried Ware, whose face was bright when he heard this praise of Anne; "she is the daughter of George Franklin, of Jamaica. Denham assumed the name to get the Powell money."

"Then," cried Dane, flinging wide his arms in a most dramatic manner, "all I know you shall know. I turn King's evidence."

"The best way to save your own skin," said Steel dryly; "you are an Irishman, are you not?"

Dane nodded. "Born in New York," said he.

"Humph!" murmured Steel, but so low that only Giles heard him, "all the better. You would betray your own mother if it suited you."

Meanwhile Olga was speaking to the man. "The first thing you have to confess," she said, "is about Miss Denham. Where is she?"

"With Mr. Morley."

Giles uttered an exclamation. "What has he got to do with her?"

"I don't know. He came up to town yesterday evening."

"About nine or ten?" asked Giles quickly. He remembered his feeling of being watched at the Liverpool Street Station.

"Yes," assented Dane, "he came up to see me. He said that he had a message for Miss Denham from her father. Of course I thought then that Denham was really her father. I asked Morley why he did not deliver the message himself, for he knew that Miss Denham had come to town with the Princess Karacsay."

"How the deuce did he know that?" wondered Giles.

"Well, you see, sir, Mr. Morley was a detective at one time, and he always finds out what he desires."

"True enough," put in Steel, "Joe Bart is very clever."

"He appears to have been extremely so in this case," said Giles dryly.

"Morley told me," continued Mark, "that Miss Denham knew he suspected her of the murder, and she would not let him see her. If she knew he had come to look her up that she would run away thinking he came to have her arrested. He asked me to tell her to come to a rendezvous near the Abbey without mentioning his name. I thought this was reasonable enough, and wrote a letter."

"And I went with Anne," said Olga. "Where did you go?"

"When you left us I told her that Morley had a message from her father. She said nothing to me denying the relationship, but she was afraid of Morley. I told her that he had promised not to do her any harm. She was still doubtful. Then Morley appeared. He had been close at hand, and he explained that Denham was very ill. He wished to see Miss Denham and make reparation for his wickedness. There was no time to be lost, Morley said, and he asked her to come at once. She hesitated for a time, and then went with Morley. She told me to wait till the Princess Olga came back and tell her this."

"Why did you not?"

"Because Morley whispered that I was not to do so. I went away in another direction."

"Then why do you tell now?" asked Ware bluntly.

"I wish to be revenged on Denham," said Dane fiercely. "He treated me like a dog, and he shall be bitten by me. Curse him!"

Olga walked to the door. "I shall go now," she said, seeing that Dane was becoming excited and fearing a scene. "You can tell Mr. Steel and Mr. Ware everything, Mark. When Denham is caught and Anne is free, you shall come to Vienna with me. My father shall take you into his service," and with this she held out her hand to him in a regal manner. Dane kissed it as though it had been the hand of a queen, and when she was out of the room, turned to the two men with a shining face.

"I am ready to tell you everything," he said.

"And betray those who have done you a kindness," muttered Steel. "You would not be an Irish-American if you didn't. I know the type."

Quite unaware of this uncomplimentary speech, Dane glanced into a near mirror and ran his slim hand through his hair. He cast such a complacent look at his reflection that Giles could not forbear a smile. The man was a compound of treachery, courage, and vanity. He had some virtues and not a few vices, and was one of those irresponsible creatures who develop into Anarchists. But that the Scarlet Cross Society had attracted his talents in the direction of a kind of coast piracy, he would without doubt have been employed in blowing up kings or public buildings. Giles thought with a grim smile that if Olga took this creature to Austria, Prince Karacsay would have some work to keep him in order. Dane was not the man to settle to a dull, respectable existence or to earn his bread without a little excitement. A dangerous man, and the more dangerous from his enormous vanity and utter want of moral principle.

Having made Steel promise not to arrest him, nor to make any use of his revelations to endanger his own liberty, Dane cheerfully proceeded to betray those he had sworn secrecy to. Wicked as was the gang, and evil as was the purpose of its formation, Giles could not help feeling a contempt for the traitor. There should be honor amongst thieves, thought Ware. But Dane did not believe in the proverb, and explained himself quite complacently.

"I met Denham – as he usually called himself many years ago in Italy – at Milan," said Dane; "he had a house there. His daughter – let us call Miss Anne his daughter, although I am glad to hear she is not – lived with him. She was then about fifteen and was at school at a convent. She and I got on very well. I adored her for her beauty and kindness of heart. I was starving for want of money, as my remittances had not arrived from America. Denham took me in. I made myself useful, so there was no charity about the matter."

"Still, he took you in," suggested Giles, "that was kind."

"A kindness to himself," retorted Dane. "I tell you, sir, Denham wanted what he called a secretary and what I called a tool. He found such a one in me. I don't deny that I did all his dirty work, but I had some feeling of gratitude because he rescued me from starvation."

"You contradict yourself, Dane."

"No, sir, I do not," replied the man, with true Irish obstinacy, "but I'm not here to argue about my conduct but to tell you facts."

"Facts we wish to know," said Steel, taking out his note-book.

"And facts I tell," cried Dane vehemently, then resumed in a calmer tone. "Miss Anne was all day at school. Denham never let her know what a devil he was. He was always kind to her. She thought him a good man. Then thinking she might get to know too much, he sent her to a convent for education and removed to Florence. There he called himself George Franklin. He told me that he expected to get money by taking that name."

"Then he admitted that he was not George Franklin," said Giles.

"He never admitted anything. At one time he would say that his real name was George Franklin, at another declare he was really Alfred Denham. But he had so many names in the course of his career," added Dane, with a shrug, "that one more or less did not matter. Besides, he was such a liar that I never believed anything he said."

"Not even about the Powell money?"

"Oh, yes, I believed that. He was always swearing at some girl who stood between him and the money. He mentioned her name once. I was with him in England at the time, and set to work to find out. I learned all about Miss Kent and her engagement to you, Mr. Ware."

"And you know all about the Powell money?"

"Yes. I got the truth out of Denham at last, but he never told Miss Anne; nor did he ever mention Miss Kent's name in her presence; nor did he ever say to me that Miss Anne was not his child. I never thought for a moment she was Franklin's daughter. And for the matter of that," added Dane carelessly, "I did not know if he was really Denham or Franklin himself."

"But Miss Anne knew nothing of all this?" asked Giles.

"Absolutely nothing. After she went to the Milan convent, Denham would not let her come back to him again. He was afraid lest she should learn what he was and wished to preserve her good opinion. She went out as a governess, and only rarely came home."

"And how did Denham earn his living?"

"Oh, he invented the Scarlet Cross Society. He bought a yacht, and steamed to England from Genoa. For years we put in at different ports, robbed houses and stowed the goods on board. Then we returned to Italy and sold them."

"A clever dodge," murmured Steel. "So that is why the goods were never traced."

"That is why," said Dane, with great coolness. "There was a Jew who took a lot of what we brought. He sold them in the East. But it is too long a story to tell at present. Denham sometimes went to England and sometimes stopped in Florence. When he was away I stayed in his house as George Franklin."

"I see. He wished to prove an alibi."

"That's it," said Dane. "He intended to get that money sometime, and wished that when inquiries were made about George Franklin that it could be proved he was in Florence all the time."

"And then when Powell did die?"

"Denham knew as soon as possible. He had a spy in Australia, and had a cablegram sent to him. Then he arranged a pretended death to get rid of Miss Anne. He did not want her to come into his new life. He treated her well, however, for he left her money, and intended to give her an income when he got the money. Another man was buried in place of Denham and he went to England, where he reappeared as George Franklin to claim the money."

"As Wilson, you mean, to kill the girl who stood between him and the fortune," said Steel, raising his eyes.

Dane shook his head. "I know nothing of that," he said. "From the day Denham left Florence my association with him has severed. I saw Miss Anne, told her about the death of her father, and then went to America. Denham did not pay me my annuity, and I came back to be revenged. I saw him, but he denies having killed the girl. He says he does not know who committed the murder. I have been earning my bread as I best can, waiting for revenge."

"But you had only to threaten to make all this public to make Denham give you what you wished."

"No." Dane looked uneasy. "The fact is he and some one else have a hold over me. I need not tell you what it is, but I had to be silent."

"But now that you speak he has still the hold."

"Yes. But I intend to ruin myself in order to ruin him," cried Dane fiercely, and rose to his feet. "Well, gentlemen, that is all I can tell you at present. I shall go."

To Giles' surprise, Steel made no objection. "You'll come and see me again?" he said, opening the door for Dane.

"Assuredly," replied that young gentleman, and departed.

Giles looked amazed at this permission to depart being given by the detective. "I should have thought it would be to your interest to keep Dane here," he said. "He has not told us everything yet."

"No," replied Steel, closing his book with a snap, "there is one very interesting detail he has not told us. But the next time we meet I'll get it out of him. Here," he touched the book, "there is enough to go on with. I'll go down to the Priory and see the sick Mr. Denham."

"I'll come also and see Anne," said Giles eagerly. "But Dane?"

"He's all right. I have a couple of men waiting outside. He will be followed everywhere. I'll be able to lay hands on him whenever I like. Also I wish to see where he goes. He knows the various hiding-places of this gang, and I want him to be tracked to one of them."

"H'm! Don't you believe his story?"

"Not altogether. He evidently hates Denham with all the virulent hatred of a malicious character. He's a devil, that man Dane. I should not like to incur his enmity. However, we'll make use of him, and then the Princess can take him to Vienna to make trouble there, as he assuredly will."

"What is the especial detail you want to learn?"

"I wish him to explain how he killed Daisy Kent."

"He! Dane! Do you mean to say – ?"

"I mean to say that Dane is the murderer," said Steel triumphantly. "That is the reason Denham and this other person (whoever he may be) have a hold over him. If he ruins Denham, he does so at the cost of being hanged."

CHAPTER XXIV
A RAT IN A CORNER

The next day Giles returned to Rickwell with Steel. The detective could not leave town before, as he had to procure a warrant for the arrest of Alfred Denham, alias Wilson, alias George Franklin, and half a dozen other names. The man was to be arrested for various robberies connected with the gang of thieves, of which he was the head. Search was being made by the police for The Red Cross yacht, but evidently the gang had taken alarm, for she had disappeared. It was Steel's opinion that she was down Plymouth way, sailing round the Devonshire coast, and the police in that county were on the lookout.

"Once I can get that ship," explained Steel to Giles when in the train, "and their claws will be cut. They have escaped for a long time, so ingenious have their methods been. But I have accumulated a mass of evidence, and have several names known to the police. Yes, and several names of people not known. There are about twenty thieves, professional and amateur, connected with this matter. It is a big affair. But I'll get the yacht, and then Denham. That will be the means of laying bare the whole swindle."

"Which? Denham or the yacht?"

"Each! both! If the police can seize the boat unexpectedly, some incriminating papers are sure to be found on board. And if I can arrest Denham, I'll soon get the truth out of him."

"I don't believe he can tell the truth, even if forced to," said Ware grimly. "You have no idea how that man has cheated me, Steel," and then Giles related the eavesdropping of himself and Morley.

"I don't know how Denham got to know," he continued, "but the tale he told about the invented brother was his own history, and quite deceived me and Morley. Also that soliloquy after Mrs. Benker departed was a masterly conception. It would have cheated any one, let alone me. The man was acting for the benefit of myself and Morley, and knew we were listening. What a clever scoundrel!"

"He's been a little too clever this time," replied Steel; then he began to laugh, but refused to explain why he did so, save in a general way.

"This is the queerest case I was ever in," he said, with a chuckle; "you don't know how queer."

"Well, you explain. I think you are keeping something from me."

"I am," answered Steel readily. "Tit for tat, Mr. Ware. You did a little business on your own account, and said nothing to me. I repay the compliment."

"I was afraid you would arrest Miss Denham."

"You mean Miss Franklin. No, I should not have done that. My investigations into this thieving case have shown me that she is perfectly innocent. She knows nothing about Denham's rascalities, and she certainly did not commit the murder."

"Are you so sure that Dane is the culprit?" asked Giles.

"Yes, I am sure. He was at Gravesend on board that yacht, and when the so-called Wilson came by train from London, Dane rode over from Tilbury on a motor-bicycle. They met on that night, and then I expect Denham induced Dane to murder the girl. Afterwards Dane went back to Tilbury as he came, and Denham induced his daughter to rescue him on your motor."

"But why should he get Anne to do that?"

"Because he saw that he had been wrong in forcing Dane to do what he did. Dane was too hasty. He should have waited till Denham was a safe distance away, and then have executed the deed. As it was I believe that Denham came out to find the girl dead, and knowing he might be accused, lost his head. Otherwise he certainly would not have betrayed himself to Miss Anne. She, believing him to be her father, secured the car and saved him. A very clever woman, Mr. Ware. I hope you will ask me to the wedding."

"How do you know it will ever take place?" asked Giles sadly.

"Because I am sure we shall find Miss Anne in the Priory. I shall arrest Denham, and you can place the lady in charge of some friend, or send her up to her mother, the Princess Karacsay. By the way, how does she come to be the mother?"

"It's a long story. The Princess was married twice, first to George Franklin, of Jamaica, and secondly to Prince Karacsay. But how do you know that when Morley arrived with Anne that Denham did not take fright and fly?"

"I don't think Morley would let him do that. It is probable that Miss Anne would tell him what she knew, and there would be quite enough suspicion excited in Morley's mind to induce him to communicate with me."

"Has he done so?"

"Well, no, he hasn't. But then, he's a detective also, you see, and his professional jealousy, even although he has retired, may induce him to engineer this business himself. But he shan't have the credit of it after all my work," cried Steel vehemently.

Then the detective began to turn over his notes, so as to prepare for the coming interview with Denham. Giles gave himself up to his own thoughts, and rejoiced that he would soon see Anne again. Her character would be cleared, and then she would become his wife. Ware was much relieved that Olga had overcome her foolish fancy for him, but he could not be sure if her cure was permanent. When she excused herself, she was weak and exhausted, and he dreaded lest when she recovered she should begin to persecute him again. But after all, as he reflected, it really did not much matter. The future of Anne was taken out of her hands, and the Princess Karacsay would not permit Olga to play fast and loose with Anne's happiness.

Giles remembered how Olga had told him that Anne was at school at Hampstead, but had not said a word about the convent at Milan. No doubt Anne, when she first came to England, had gone for a few finishing lessons to the Hampstead school, for there she had met Mrs. Cairns. Still, Olga all the time had known much more of Anne's history than she had chosen to tell. And if the Princess Karacsay had not been so candid, Ware doubted very much if Olga would have confessed her relationship with Anne. Yet on second thought he fancied he might be doing the Hungarian sister wrong. In spite of her proposed treachery, she was really fond of Anne, and perhaps would not have delivered her up to the police. In fact, after she brought her mother over to unmask Denham, and had thus made her aware of Anne's existence, she could not do that without provoking her mother's undying enmity. On the whole, Olga was something of a problem, and although Giles wished to think of her as kindly as he could, he determined to see as little of her as was possible after the marriage. He did not trust her. There was too much of the untamed tigress about the girl.

When the train arrived at Barnham, a trap ordered by Giles was waiting to take them to Rickwell. On the platform Steel was met by a local policeman who seemed to be much excited. "I have acted according to your instructions, sir," he said, touching his helmet.

"Well," said Steel sharply while Giles lingered to listen – for everything the detective said was interesting to him; he still doubted his intentions regarding Anne – "did Mr. Morley bring down Miss Denham?"

"No, sir," was the unexpected answer. "Mr. Morley has not come back since he went up to town two nights ago. He went by the nine train."

"The same train as I went by," interposed Giles.

"Are you sure?" said Steel, and Giles fancied he saw a smile play round his rather full lips.

"Yes, sir. Mr. Morley on the evening he went away called at the Priory and had a quarrel with Mr. Franklin, sir. They came to blows, sir, and Mr. Franklin's leg is broken."

"Then he has not left Rickwell?"

"No, sir. He's laid up with the broken leg and his daughter is nursing him. He's awful bad, I've been told, sir, by Mrs. Parry."

Giles could not help laughing at the introduction of the good lady's name. She seemed to be mixed up with everything. He could not be sorry for Denham, as he was only meeting with his deserts. "But Anne – where can she be?" he asked Steel, as they stepped into the cart.

"I wish I knew," said Steel gloomily. "I had an idea that Morley was playing me false."

"Do you think he is in league with Denham?"

"I am sure of it. That is the portion of the case of which I have not spoken to you. You'll hear what Denham says. Now that Morley has left him in the lurch Denham will reveal Morley's connection with these matters. But Morley has secured a hostage in the person of Miss Anne. He has taken her away somewhere. His wife may know of his whereabouts. After we have seen Denham we'll speak of her."

"Since when have you had suspicions of Morley?"

"Since I investigated this Scarlet Cross case. I have found one or two of the gang who, like Dane, are willing to turn King's evidence to save themselves. It was one of them called Scott who told me of Dane's coming on the motor-bicycle to Rickwell. But later on you shall hear all. Let me round off the case by arresting Denham." Here Steel scratched his head and smiled ruefully. "But I fear the case will not be finished till Morley is caught, and where am I to look for him? I wish I had had him watched. He has been too clever for me. I might have known. As Joe Bart he was one of the smartest detectives in London."

After this speech Steel began to think, and as he seemed impatient of interruption, Giles said nothing. In due time they arrived at the door of the Priory. It was close on five o'clock. Steel rang the bell, and as he did so a couple of policemen came round the corner for orders. Steel told them to wait in the hall while he saw Denham. "I don't think he can show fight with a broken leg," said Steel grimly.

As he spoke the door opened. Portia with her freckled face swollen with weeping appeared. She did not seem astonished at the sight of the men in uniform. Perhaps she had seen them lurking in the neighborhood and knew what to expect.

"Come in," she said sullenly to Steel and his companion. "My father expects you."

"Who told him I was coming?" asked Steel.

"I don't know," she answered, and led the way up the stairs. On the landing she turned viciously. "If father had not broken his leg, you would not have found us here," she declared.

"I quite believe that," retorted Steel.

"And you needn't have brought those beasts of men," continued the girl, with a glance at the police in the hall. "We are all alone. Dowse and his wife and daughter ran away whenever they heard there was trouble."

"Oh, they are mixed up in this affair also."

"I don't know. I shan't say anything, for I don't know nothing."

She sullenly led the way through a long corridor and opened the door of a sitting-room. Here on a sofa with a small table at his elbow lay Denham. His leg was swathed in bandages, and he wore a loose dressing-gown. As they entered he laid down a book and looked at them. His face was worn, his hair was quite grey, but the brilliance of his eyes were undimmed, and he spoke in a masterful manner.

"Here you are, Steel," he said coolly. "Got the warrant?"

"How do you know I have a warrant?" asked the other, taken aback.

"I knew you would find out the truth the moment Mrs. Franklin, or rather, I should say the Princess Karacsay, discovered me. She has told you all and has put you on my track."

"Dane put me on your track."

"Dane? Well, I'm not surprised. He's a scoundrel. King's evidence, I suppose? I'll defeat him, Steel. Take a seat and I'll tell you all about myself."

Very much surprised at this calmness the two men sat down. Denham waved his daughter out of the room. She was unwilling to go, but a glance sent her away. When she closed the door Denham turned to Giles.

"When you marry Anne, Mr. Ware," said he, "ask her to look after my poor daughter."

"How do you know I shall ever marry Anne?"

"Because you are a determined man. Men like you usually do get their own way. You intend to marry Anne Franklin and you will. But Portia has been good to Anne, and when I am in prison I hope Anne will take care of her."

"I'll see to that," said Giles. "I don't believe that the sins of the father should be visited on the children. Do you know where Anne has got to? She went away with Morley."