It's under cover." Tavernake moved restlessly in his chair.
"What the devil is all this talk about crooks!" he exclaimed impatiently.

"I didn't come here to listen to this sort of thing.

I am not sure that I believe a word of what you say." "Why should you," Pritchard remarked, "without proof?
Look here." He drew a leather case from his pocket and spread it out.

There were a dozen photographs there of men in prison attire.

The detective pointed to one, and with a little shiver Tavernake recognized the face of the man who had been sitting at the right hand of Elizabeth.
"You don't mean to say," he faltered, "that Mrs.Gardner--" The detective folded up his case and replaced it in his pocket.
"No," he said, "we haven't any photographs of your lady friend there, nor of her sister.